They / He https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellbound_honeybee/pseuds/hellbound_honeybee is my Ao3 if you would like to read one of my other works. It’s mostly just gay fanfic
“You still want?” “I still wunnt.” leads me to believe that once shane drops masking a little more, he starts feeling comfy letting himself echo ilya from time to time. it starts out with words and phrases that conveniently double as an answer to whatever they’re talking about. like above, ilya asks him something and shane answers using the same words and same inflection, just with his monotone little drone. “You have remote?" "I hayve re-mote."
he fucking loves the was ilya says “probably.” ten out of ten times if ilya’s saying probably, shane’s bringing up the rear with a deadpan but delighted “prah-bubly.”
ilya doesn’t say anything at first bc shane’s kind of always done this? it’s just much more frequent now. but then shane starts quietly echoing stuff even when he’s not being asked something. like he’s literally just repeating random words that ilya says, even in the middle of his sentence. and finally ilya is like hey what the fuck. why are you being an asshole? like he knows his english pronunciation is still not great with some things after all these years, but it’s kind of a dick move to point it out so much!
and shane is first and foremost confused by this! it was never about roasting him or being mean and he has to sit him down and explain to him that no no. since the day they met there has never been anything more satisfying to his ears than ilya speaking. his brain likes the way the words sound coming out of ilya’s mouth and shane needs to feel them in his mouth too. it’s an echo of delight, not derision.
once ilya understands that he’s not being hate-crimed by his own boyfriend twenty times a week, he’s all good with it. maybe even a little endeared, because that must mean shane feels comfortable around him, right? eventually, it doesn’t even register as strange to have a one-note parrot within his vicinity, occasionally repeating bits and pieces of his sentences when it suits him. that’s when shane really starts to let the echo flag fly.
he doesn’t even need to be talking to shane specifically anymore. if it’s coming out of ilya’s mouth, shane’s brain is latching onto that shit and trying it on for size. like when they’re on the road for a game and tensions are midwest-hellhole-green-sky high. ilya’s trying to calm down a particularly antsy group of coastal rookies like “Yes we all have alerts on our phones. Is tornado probably - just keep an eye out.” and the rookies are like, shitting their pants and stuff and meanwhile Shane’s in the background muttering “Ees tornaydo prah-bubly” under his breath, attention otherwise focused on zipping up his travel bag.
they’re out with some of the guys and marlow is purposely being a pain in the ass about leaving just to stress ilya out/get him back for years of ilya foolishness and ilya is standing at the curb about to crash out like “Marly I will leave your drunk ass here if you don’t get in stupid uber right now!” meanwhile, mumbled from the safety of the sidewalk: “Stoopid oo-burr…”
sometimes he'll be on the phone in the living room and can't even make out shane's exact repeat from where he's meal prepping. so it's kind of like soothing background noise, ilya speaking freely while there's this lowkey undercurrent of shane murmuring in the kitchen, happy as a clam to get his brain scratched when they're not even in the same room.
idk i just think ilya's got a very brain-petty voice and pronunciation of things, and i like to live in a world where shane lets himself enjoy that.
Harry tried to ignore Malfoy, he really did. The last thing he needed was yet another year of obsessing over the blond's whereabouts, after all. All Harry wanted to do was spend his last year at Hogwarts goofing off and just generally acting like a regular teenage boy before he's thrust into the harsh reality of proper adulthood. Just one year filled with boring lectures and annoying assignments, with no crazy teachers or mass murderers chasing him down. And especially with no sleepless nights stalking Malfoy's nametag on the Marauder's Map. But nothing in Harry's life has ever gone according to plan, so why would this be any different?
To his credit, Harry had gone thirteen whole months without even thinking about Draco Malfoy. It wasn't too hard after all that had happened and all that continued to happen. Malfoy's trial had been firmly sandwiched between countless funerals and even some service recognition ceremonies. Hogwarts had taken such a beating during the war that the next school year had to be postponed until the castle reconstruction had finished.
Between all of the events and trying to help the Weasleys through their grief, Harry barely had the time to remember his own pain, let alone the existence of Malfoy. So the blond had been pushed to the wayside, forgotten under the weight of Fred's memorial and the nightly lighting of his candle on the mantle. But then the start of term came and Harry was abruptly confronted by the sight of Draco Malfoy standing in the middle of their new Eighth Year common room. He was so different now and with nothing occupying all of Harry's free time, Harry soon finds himself slipping seamlessly back into his old obsession.
It started slow, at first, just trying to catch glimpses of the tattoos adorning Malfoy's pale skin. It had taken a whole week for Harry to figure out exactly what stood in the same place the Dark Mark had once been. Malfoy usually had it covered, either by a cozy jumper or by his crisp school shirt, but one day the potions room got unbearably hot. In an attempt to survive the stifling heat, Malfoy rolled up his sleeves, revealing a beautiful arrangement of narcissus flowers. Unfortunately, one of the nearby students also noticed and stared at the tattoo with a harsh glare, clearly only remembering the Dark Mark. Malfoy's cheeks had turned slightly pink and he had tugged down his sleeve with a grim look. Harry found himself biting back a remark, he suddenly wanted to snap that the Dark Mark wasn't even there anymore and that Malfoy shouldn't have to hide where it used to be.
That was the first slip and down the rabbit hole Harry went. Harry quickly finds himself watching Malfoy whenever he's in the room, which is rather often considering they share a common room now. Oddly enough, Harry doesn't feel that overly familiar prickle of suspicion when he looks at Malfoy anymore, now it's replaced with sheer amazement.
Malfoy's probation must have done him a world of good because he came back to Hogwarts an entirely new person. Sometime after his trial, Malfoy had shot up several inches and filled into his stature, still lean and slender but no longer as gangly and boney. He let his hair grow out quite a bit too, now hanging in soft waves just below his cheekbones in the front and brushing the top of his shoulders in the back. Malfoy looks like a man now, and he acts like one too.
When he isn't running a study group for the younger students, Malfoy can usually be found lounging in a plush armchair beside the fire in the common room. Sometimes he's engrossed in some worn old novel and other times, he's chatting animatedly with the other former Slytherins. Malfoy even eagerly participates in Pansy and Hermione's established Eighth year game nights every Friday. Harry likes watching Malfoy in these moments, he likes seeing his open and friendly demeanour. Harry especially likes observing how Malfoy acts when he's too preoccupied to notice Harry watching him.
Warm and inviting are not words normally used to describe Draco Malfoy, but now they are regularly overheard in idle chatter between the other students. It took a long time for the sixth, seventh and eighth years to let their guard down around Malfoy but eventually, they let him in. It was obvious to everyone that Malfoy genuinely intended to spend his every waking moment trying to make up for his previous wrongdoings. The Dark Mark had faded away to nothing over all these months and it seems that the cruel and vindictive Malfoy from the past has gone with it.
Still, something about Malfoy hovered in the back of Harry's mind, always floating there in vivid memories. Sometimes they force their way to the forefront in flashes. Malfoy's nose crinkling cutely when he laughs or the big round glasses he wears whenever he's going to be reading for an extended amount of time. More often than not, it's how Malfoy pulls the majority of his hair back into a tiny little ponytail at the base of his neck, the shorter strands of his hair left loose to frame his face. Harry especially likes that Malfoy pulls his oversized jumper sleeves down over his hands when he's curled up in his armchair.
Harry thinks of these things against his will at first but the more he thinks of them on purpose, the more he marvels at the stark changes between this Malfoy and the Malfoy he's known for all these years. For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy has become his own person instead of just acting like a carbon copy of his father. He is kind and considerate and always the first one to comfort the younger students after a nightmare.
A few years ago, if someone were to have foretold a cordial and borderline friendly relationship between the two of them, Harry would have laughed directly in their face. But now, not only does Harry enjoy their little interactions, he kind of craves more. Occasionally, Harry will let himself wonder what a proper friendship with Malfoy would be like, the kind where they can spend time together and joke around without needing someone else there to act as a buffer.
Malfoy isn't entirely unrecognizable. He's still got the same witty and sarcastic sense of humour but his words no longer hold the malicious bite they once did. Malfoy has always been wicked smart and, even though he would never admit it out loud, he's fiercely protective of the people he cares about. Now that he no longer spends the majority of his free time bullying others, all these good qualities shine a whole lot brighter. It's refreshing to see Draco Malfoy in this new light… it's also completely baffling.
Floating (with scales like shimmering stars) Ao3 link
Summary: Harry never thought he would end up here, racing down to the lakeside in a desperate attempt to save Draco Malfoy's life. Now he's freezing cold and confused as all hell. What the fuck is going on? And why is Malfoy fretting over him like a frightened mother hen?
Or: how one Harry James Potter gains himself a kinky siren boyfriend.
Tags: Hogwarts 8th Year, Post-War, Ex-Death Eater Draco, Nice Draco, Harry Potter is Obsessed with Draco Malfoy, Again, but in a horny way this time, Oblivious Harry Potter, Protective Draco Malfoy, Sexually inexperienced Harry Potter, Confident Draco Malfoy, Siren Draco Malfoy, Loss of virginity
I'll be posting as much of it as I can on here but due to the explicit nature of some sections, certain chapters will only be available on my ao3.
Many of you seemed to enjoy Day 15: Shattered (drarry) from my 100daypromptchallenge so I decided to write an extended version. Unfortunately it's too long and explicit to post on here but here's a link if you want to pop on over to my Ao3!
Many Years (and several deaths) In The Making
Summary: Harry is left for dead after a vicious werewolf attack and Draco saves his life. Now he has to navigate being disabled at 19 and being treated differently for it. One thing Harry learns is that Aurors are dicks and Draco will always be his biggest supporter.
Can we all collectively agree not to mention that I've been gone for so long? Great thanks
---
Draco likes to fidget when he’s nervous. Harry had teased him for this countless times over the years of working together. Once he had said it was amusing to see Draco, ever the refined and elegant prosecutor, show even the slightest hint of unease. Most people didn’t notice it but Harry knew him well, or maybe he was just more observant of useless things around him because the Head Auror certainly hadn’t noticed Draco’s nearly decade-long crush on him.
Either way, Draco fidgets when he’s nervous and he’s more nervous than ever as he sits across from Harry Potter in a small Indian restaurant. Harry had finally asked him out on a date a few days prior, promising to take Draco to the fanciest and most expensive place in Europe but Draco had refused. Not the date, Draco would sooner fistfight a hippogriff before turning down a date but just like Harry knows his habits, Draco knows that extravagance makes Harry deeply uncomfortable.
After years of waiting, Draco needed this date to go perfectly. So he had insisted on going to Harry’s favourite place which just so happened to be a family-run restaurant that made the best curry in all of muggle London. So Harry claimed at least, Draco had to admit the samosas were the best he’s ever had.
This is how Draco finds himself fidgeting with the paper napkin in front of him as Harry rambles on about whatever. He’s happy, of course Draco is happy, he’s waited for this day since fourth year. But he’s also horribly nervous and before he knows it, the napkin has been folded into a small origami crane.
Harry’s eyes light up when he spots the crane, excitedly asking if he can take a closer look at it. Draco grins and taking a quick look around the restaurant, waves his fingers and sends the crane over to land on Harry’s plate. It’s entirely unnecessary, they’re not that far apart, but the tiny flutter of magic seems to delight Harry further.
“Do you remember that one time you drew that awful drawing of me and sent it to me in class?” Harry asks carefully turning the crane this way and that between his fingers. Draco had forgotten all about that incident but now the memory flooded back. “I kept that crane for months afterward. It was an accident at first, I just kind of dropped it into my bag without thinking but then I found it later when I went to grab my essay and I put it on the table beside my bed. I can’t even tell you how many nights I fell asleep thinking it looked just like you.”
“Looked like me?” Draco asked somewhat startled. Harry laughed and shook his hand to signal that it wasn’t serious.
“Looked wasn’t the right word. But the more I looked at the crane the more I thought about the similarities between you and it.” Harry closed his hands around the napkin crane and mumbled something. When he opened them again, the brown wonky napkin had turned into a crisp parchment crane, not a fold out of place. Harry pulled it apart to reveal the same lousy drawing from all those years ago. “I would stare at this crane late at night and think about how beautiful it was, perfect in every way, but created to be mean and arrogant. You were made by your father to be cruel and judgy in the same way you created this note to bully me. You’re the exact same.”
“You know, you’re inadvertently calling me beautiful too.” Draco was not expecting such a philosophical observation from Harry. Not that he’s stupid, Harry is actually incredibly intelligent when it comes to things he’s passionate about but he’s not known for having such in-depth forethought.
“I can tell you directly if you’d like.” Harry refolds the crane with a simple spell and sends it back over to Draco. He seems entirely unconcerned by the fact that they’re in a muggle establishment. Harry gestures for Draco to open it back up and when he does, the picture has changed slightly.
Harry is still on his broomstick being struck by a bolt of lightning but now there’s a second figure beside him. Draco in poorly drawn stick figure form flies over to kiss Harry on the cheek. Draco can feel his cheeks heating up as tiny hearts pop up around their heads before the loop starts again. Lightning. Kiss. Hearts.
“You’re beautiful, Draco,” Harry whispers lowly. Draco slowly refolds the crane, careful not to mess up any of the creases. Once the crane is whole again and sitting safely to the side, Draco looks up and reaches across the table to take Harry’s hand.
“I think you should take me home now,” Draco suggests and Harry grins.
Every day since then Draco has made a little origami crane, each one with a sweet love note hidden inside. Originally he had planned to give each one to Harry as a way of telling him just how much Draco appreciated him. But he’d been far too nervous at first and then he had an embarrassing amount strewn across his flat.
By the sixth month of their relationship, a new idea began to form in Draco’s mind. It would be very over the top and would require a lot of hope and detailed planning but Draco decided to try anyway.
On their two-year anniversary Draco proposed, again with a hand folded crane and a crappy drawing. To his complete surprise, Harry had also been planning to propose that night and the whole ordeal had ended in plenty of happy tears and sloppy kisses.
Exactly 270 days later Draco stood at the alter waiting for his love to walk down the aisle. Just over two years and seven months of work coming down to this one moment. 999 origami cranes have been strung up and hung behind him. Seeing them all together makes Draco just a little bit emotional.
What does finally make him cry, however, is Harry appearing at the end of the aisle. His white suit contrasts beautifully with his tan skin and the sight makes Draco choke back a sob. All this time waiting and now his soon to be husband is striding toward him. They had talked endlessly about what they wanted at their wedding, how the venue should be decorated but now none of it mattered, all of it paled in comparison to Harry.
Soon enough Harry’s hands slipped into his, only after quickly reaching over to wipe a stray tear off Draco’s cheek. The officiant asked for Draco’s vows first and, taking a deep shuddering breath, Draco pulled a small square of paper out of his pocket. He had written his speech on it but he didn’t read off of it. Instead, as he spoke, he slowly folded it into one last crane. His eyes never left Harry’s as he spoke, making the origami figure had become second nature at this point.
“Back when we were children, I gave you a crane. It had this horrible little drawing making fun of you but you kept it anyway. On our first date, you turned my mean note into a sweeter one and I kept it. Every day since I have made you more notes, some drawings, most of them words, all of them about the things I love about you. In Japan, they say if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you get a wish. This is my gift to you, my love. One thousand cranes, one wish, and me, if you’ll accept.” Draco lifted the finished crane to his lips before sending attaching it to the others.
“I wish to keep you for the rest of our lives, Draco Malfoy.”
I fully believe that Sirius leaves cute little drawings with notes for Remus all the time and Remus keeps every single one.
Feel free to suggest any prompts/tropes you would like me to write!
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Sirius can draw. No one knows this of course, except Lily who has become his dealer of sorts. Sirius had started with doodling on his assignments as a kid but his tutor had quickly noticed and Sirius’s parents swiftly punished him. His doodles then moved to spare sheets of parchment which Sirius carefully hid under his mattress.
Over eight years of drawing, Sirius actually got very good. He drew everything and anything he could during every spare moment he had. Not even Regulus knew about Sirius’s drawings because it was all too likely that he would accidentally let it slip to their parents. Art is not a respectable hobby for purebloods so he would surely be punished and forbidden from drawing again.
Lily found out in fifth year when she had jokingly introduced the Marauders to muggle school supplies. Remus and Lily had laughed loudly when Peter accidentally stuck muggle paper to his hand using a glue stick. James marvelled at the mechanics behind a stapler. Sirius, however, had immediately gravitated toward the coloured pencils. He had only ever drawn with a quill and ink before and that made it nearly impossible to fix any mistakes.
Lily watched with a sparkle in her eye as Sirius picked up one of the regular pencils, figuring out fairly quickly how it best fit into his hand. It was almost jarring how smoothly the lead dragged over the paper, Sirius was so used to overcompensating for the scratchiness of the quill and the bleeding of the ink. The pencil allowed more precise lines and depending on how hard Sirius pressed, the darkness of the lines would change.
After their little exploration session, Sirius had cornered Lily while the other boys were busy goofing around. He hadn’t even asked before Lily handed over the pencils and a fresh rubber. ‘It gets rid of the lines you don’t want’ Lily explained as she dumped the supplies into his hands.
Ever since then, Sirius went to Lily every time he needed something and she happily fed into his hobby. Last Christmas she’d even snuck in some fancy charcoal pencils and a thick sketchbook in with his other presents. Now, almost six months later, the sketchbook is filled with countless random drawings. The moss and vines growing over the bricks of the courtyard wall, James and Peter bent over their plans for a new prank, the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room.
There are plenty of Remus too, so many that Sirius is extremely careful to keep his sketchbook hidden from the other boys. Layer upon layer of concealment charms and several glamours make it appear as though Sirius is working on an essay instead of drawing.
Sitting sideways on one of the many couches in the common room means that Sirius is directly facing Remus who is working on his own assignment on the other side of the couch. Sirius adores drawing Remus while he’s working. His lips part slightly whenever he’s reading, his eyebrows scrunch when he’s writing and, to date, Sirius’s favourite thing to draw is the moment Remus gets fed up and drops his head back against the couch. He loves to sketch out the curve of Remus’s neck, the bump of his Adam’s apple, the sharp line of his jaw.
Sirius folds down the corner of these pages to make them easier to find later, to look at when Sirius has his daily existential crisis over how beautiful Remus is and how painfully in love with the man he is.
Finishing off a new sketch of Remus’s long fingers curled around his quill, Sirius closes his sketchbook and sets it on the table in front of the couch. James looks up and makes some quip about Sirius finishing his essay in record time but Sirius stretches his arms above his head and stands up. “Bathroom, be right back.”
Sirius thought the charms would hold, he really did, so he’s shocked when he comes back from the bathroom to find Remus flipping though his sketchbook. He tries to grab the book but Remus easily catches his wrist and moves the sketchbook out of his reach. Sirius lunges for it again with his free hand but Remus catches that one too, the sketchbook is held open and at eye level with a wandless levitation charm.
“Moony, give it back.” Sirius whines trying to wiggle out of Remus’s hold. Remus doesn’t even look at him, just uses another wave of magic to turn the page. James and Peter look up from their assignments before glancing at eachother, both boys quickly pack up their things and scurry out of the common room. “Treacherous bastards.”
“I like this one,” Remus finally says nodding toward a pencil drawing of Remus’s face and neck. Sirius was so enamoured with the freckles along his cheeks that he had connected each dot to create two of his favourite constellations, one on each cheek. “I like them all, but this one is my favourite. I know this one is Canis Major, but what’s that one?”
“Aquarius.” Sirius chokes out in surprise. He’s sure his face is the colour of a tomato right now and Sirius desperately wants to make a run for it but Remus’s grip is locked tightly around both his wrists. For a nerd, Remus is surprisingly strong, damn those werewolf genes.
“My zodiac? Cute.” Remus grins and finally looks at Sirius for the first time. “You are very talented Sirius. It’s a real shame you’ve been hiding this for so long, oh well better late than never?”
“Moony?” Sirius is barely able to squeak out the word before Remus is tugging his wrists forward and warm lips land on his. Sirius is bent over Remus with his hands braced on the back of the couch. The sketchbook lands on the floor with a resounding thump, all concentration Remus had on maintaining the levitation spell is now solely focused on Sirius. He nudges and tugs at Sirius until the boy is in his lap. “Merlin.”
“I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” Remus mumbles as Sirius breaks away to rest his forehead on Remus’s shoulder. “I’m kind of a bit mad for you.”
“I might be a little bit in love with you too, you know.” Sirius laughs and kisses Remus again, softly, marvelling at the fact that this is his first kiss and it’s with the one boy he’s wanted to kiss for years.
“I know, you draw my lips an awful lot.” Remus teases easily dodging Sirius’s playful smack. “Would you mind if I kept that one? I really do like it.”
“Yeah sure, I can always draw more.” Sirius reaches down to swipe his sketchbook off the floor and carefully tears out the page for Remus. “I can draw more can’t I? It might take a lot of staring but you haven’t seemed to mind so far.”
“You can stare at me all you want, love.” Remus pins the drawing up on the inside of his bedpost and for several weeks it is the last thing he sees before he falls asleep. Soon though, Sirius moves into his bed and the drawing becomes less important than wrapping his boyfriend in a tight hug as they drift off to sleep. One day a new drawing is pinned just below the first. Another one of Remus but this time he’s unconscious and cuddling Sirius’s pillow.
Every once in a while Sirius will gift Remus a new drawing but none of them replace the first. That one is eventually framed and hung on their bedroom wall right beside the newest one; their two hands with matching wedding bands.
I don’t have anything except to say that I wanted to write a lot more than this so maybe don’t be surprised if I pick this work back up later.
---
Trust life to throw yet another curveball into Harry’s life. No matter what Harry might have expected from becoming a Healer, it certainly wasn’t working side by side with Draco Malfoy. It’s not all bad, Malfoy is an extremely competent Potions Master and actually pretty good company. What’s bad is that Harry enjoys all the time he spends with Malfoy in the lab.
Ever prim and proper, with elegance that could rival royalty itself, Malfoy starts every morning the same. He’ll search out Harry, his robes buttoned and pristine. They don’t need to see each other until much later in the day, when they’re both done with their regular duties and they get to spend the rest of their day working on creating a better wolfsbane potion. One that would cure werewolves, permanently.
Harry doesn’t know why Malfoy comes to him before their appointed research hours, why he brings a fresh coffee with his snarky remarks. He inevitably ribs Harry about his hair or how the green of his healer’s robes clash with his face before disappearing to the lower levels of the hospital, where there are dedicated research and potions labs.
When Harry does descend into their basement lab, he inevitably finds Malfoy brewing some potion or bent over a desk littered with papers. Unlike the morning, with Malfoy standing in the sterile white hallways with his pitch black robes, now Harry is the one sticking out like a sore thumb. The potion lab is always dark and either far too cold or way too hot, it’s drastically different from the comfortable Hospital floors.
Harry loves the days the room is too hot, he also hates them. Malfoy, who has spent most of the day down here, strips off his outer robes, leaving only a crisp white button-up and fitted black trousers. Harry can’t think straight when Malfoy looks like this, sweaty and ruffled.
Today is worse than most, the room’s muggy temperature is only enhanced by the midsummer heat. Even Harry’s strongest cooling charm seems to make little more than a dent. He casts another cooling charm over Malfoy as well. The wave of magic catches Malfoy’s attention and he looks up from his papers with a grateful smile.
“I was just looking at the possibility of using mugwort soaked in juniper berry juice to enhance the potion’s healing properties,” Malfoy explains with a flourishing wave of his hand, several of the papers fly over to float in front of Harry. There are diagrams and notes with arrows, things that Harry can’t make heads or tales of yet. “Muggle tribes in the Amazon use Jergon Sacha for physical and spiritual purification, I want to explore how it might react with magic and the potions ingredients we’ve been using.”
“Muggles, huh? Well, I guess muggle magic would be a good thing to look at.” Harry hums as he plucks the pages out of the air and joins Malfoy at the desk.
“It’s rather extraordinary how some muggles are able to harness the magic around them even though they don’t have any inherent magic of their own.” Malfoy muses flipping through one of the many books on the tabletop. “It’s a subject I’ve been looking at due to… personal interest.”
“Personal interest. You are surprising Malfoy.” Harry chuckles watching the blond pop the buttons of his cuffs and carefully fold them up to his elbows.
“That’s the least surprising thing about me. You don’t mind do you?” Malfoy pauses his folding, inky black lines just barely peek out from his left sleeve. Harry shakes his head, scanning every inch of the mark as it is slowly revealed. He doesn’t see it very often, Malfoy is always so careful to keep it hidden. “Salazar, it’s so hot in here.”
“Yeah, they should really get some of those temperature regulation charms down here,” Harry mumbles stripping off his outer robes. He tosses them over the back of a nearby chair, on top of Draco’s. Harry gets a flash in his mind’s eye, the image of those two robes hung up beside the door of his flat. Merlin, he’s in too deep. Harry squeezes his eyes closed so tightly it hurts.
“You alright Potter?” Malfoy asks as he bends down to scribble another note on one of the pages. Harry has always wanted to read through the books that Malfoy has annotated, just to look at the flourished script in the margins. He wonders what Malfoy writes, how he determines which sentences are important enough to be commented upon.
“Yes, fine.” Harry coughs and shuffles around some of the papers, he’s not actually looking at them, just looking for a way to look busy. Malfoy raised one perfectly arched eyebrow but didn’t say anything. “I like the idea of mixing muggle and magical herbs but what do you think about adding werewolf fur?”
Draco stops writing and thinks for a moment, weighing the pros and cons. Harry’s considered bringing it up for a while now, he doesn’t want to look stupid in front of his genius crush after all. “Hmm, it certainly would help determine the potion’s focal point. I think it’s a pretty good idea, fantastic actually, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself. The only problem is availability, I’m afraid harvesting werewolf hair would be more trouble than it’s worth. One or two potions would be doable but once we start mass distribution… I just don’t think it will be practical.”
“You’re right, I didn’t think about that.” Harry gnaws on his lower lip and scoops up one of the books from the desk. It must be one of the muggle witchcraft books because the first page Harry flips to is talking about how a herb called Ruda can be used in cleansing rituals as a blood purifier. “Anti-inflammatory, anti-microbial and it helps get rid of parasitic energies. I suppose if you squint, this could be considered parasitic energy.”
“Ah yes, common rue, I looked at that last night. I’ve already tested it with the other ingredients, we would need to switch the cauldron to lead instead of silver but I think it’s worth a test brew.” Malfoy waves his wand and the brewing table fills with all the necessary equipment, including little glass jars containing each of their ingredients.
“What if we used a bloodwood stirring rod instead of the standard glass? It has strong healing properties and would simultaneously focus, amplify and strengthen the potion.” Harry suggests as Malfoy sets the burner to the proper temperature. Harry loathes the tiny fire when the room is already sweltering.
“I knew pairing up with you on this was a good idea.” Malfoy winks and nudges Harry with his elbow. Harry casts a fresh cooling charm over the both of them because Malfoy’s flirtatious teasing is not helping his heat problem. “We’re so close, I can feel it.”
“I think so too. We’ve been working on this for nearly three years now, I’m ready to get the fuck out of this lab.” Harry jokes as he dutifully minces the herbs Malfoy hands him. Suddenly Malfoy’s back straightens and his mouth pinches into a thin line. Harry doesn’t quite know why Malfoy suddenly looks so uncomfortable so he snaps his mouth closed, letting the dark atmosphere wash over them.
“Yes, I’m sure you’ve grown rather tired of spending half your day with me.” Malfoy’s voice is cold and emotionless. Harry shivers, it’s been years since he’s heard Malfoy speak like this, their interactions have been nothing but comfortable and teasing for quite some time now. Harry knows he’s fucked up, he just doesn’t know how or what to do to fix it.
“You say that like you aren’t literally my best friend. Anyway, I reckon I should start kidnapping you for lunch, you’ll never leave this room otherwise. You’ll still keep bringing me a morning coffee right? I like the mediwitch’s faces when you come up to see me.” Harry tries to keep up the jesting tone, there’s still quite a bit of desperation mixed in.
This has been a fear that has been tugging at Harry’s heartstrings recently. The experiments have been going too well, they’ve had so much progress, it’s all coming to an end. Harry worries that Malfoy will go back to ignoring him once they no longer have to work together on the project.
“I hate the cafeteria food, you’d have to take me out.” Malfoy unbuttons two of his shirt buttons with one hand while the other stirs the simmering potion. Harry watches enamoured as a bead of sweat slides down Malfoy’s exposed chest. “The papers would see us together and they know I’m gay. I’m sure you can imagine the headlines they would cook up about it.”
“So? I don’t care about the papers.” Harry shrugs and adds the crushed wolfsbane. “Besides, I could certainly do worse. You would make a really pretty boyfriend.”
“You do remember who I am right?” Malfoy gapes and stops stirring so that he can face Harry head-on. “I was a death eater and don’t give me all that shite about how I was forced and saved your life because it doesn’t matter. Not to them.”
“Yes well, I always did have a thing for blond bad boys who are sarcastic more often than not,” Harry grins. A dark flush covers Malfoy’s face and neck, Harry wonder’s if the colour would change if he reached out and touched Malfoy’s pale collarbone. “Plus I’ve never listened to other people’s opinions. Do you?”
“I’d get death threats…” Malfoy mumbles but he doesn’t look so opposed to the idea of going out with Harry so much as not wanting to cause trouble. Harry decides to just go for it and hope desperately that he doesn’t irreparably damage their friendship.
“I’ll deal with it. Let me take you out on a celebratory dinner.” Harry requests with a wide smile. “I’ll take you to some painfully expensive restaurant where you can order in French and I can be horribly clueless. You’re choice on if it’s a date or just as mates and if you are really worried about the publicity, I can make sure it’s a muggle place so no one will see us.”
“I’ll tell you what, if we get this right, we’ll go out on that date in wizarding London. You’ll search all my mail for curses until the articles die down and I get to be a possessive boyfriend.” Malfoy bargains as he leans back against the table. “Oh, and I also get to demand all the kisses I want.”
“You have yourself a deal, Malfoy.” Harry holds out his hand which Malfoy shakes with a victorious grin.
Hey again, this one is a lot more focused on Sirius himself than his relationship with Remus but I wrote it and now I’m posting it. Feel free to suggest any prompts or tropes if you have the time. (Not going to lie, I’m kind of hurting for ideas)
---
There was a time when Sirius and his little brother looked nearly identical. Same height, same face, same uniform haircut. People often assumed they were twins, could never quite tell which one was which, mostly they just didn’t care to look for what made each boy different.
Sirius didn’t mind looking exactly like Regulus, they were close, they loved each other. But then Sirius left for Hogwarts and his little brother had to stay behind. It was odd, being without Reg by his side. He met James with his horribly messy hair and Peter, a stout boy with gapped teeth and a dimpled smile. On the same train, they met Remus. He wore sweaters four sizes too big, pulled the sleeves down to cover his hands. Even then they could still see that his face and neck held just as many scars as there were freckles.
Sirius loved these boys, from the very first moment he saw them. He loves them just as much as he loves his Doppelgänger. Perhaps his new friends fill in the hole Regi’s absence leaves behind. Regulus will come to Hogwarts with him next year and they’ll be back to the way they were but for now, Sirius can indulge in this newfound friend group where he is Sirius and not one of the ‘Black boys’.
Sirius is sorted into Gryffindor and his world stops for a moment. Sirius gets to keep his new friends, now his dorm mates, but he also knows that his family will be very angry with him. He sends a letter to Regulus that night, it might have contained several apologies and quite a bit of begging.
Sirius receives a single howler the next morning at breakfast. The moment he sees the red envelope, Sirius sprints out of the Great Hall and into the nearest empty classroom. Remus is the first one out of his seat, urging the other two boys to follow. They find Sirius in one of the abandoned charms classrooms, he’s huddled in the back corner hands cupped over his ears to block out the screaming.
Walburga’s yelling was not something new to Sirius, he’s had eleven years of it. But when the howler ends with Regulus’s small voice telling Sirius that he’s disappointed, that he thought Sirius was better than this, Sirius nearly throws up. Logically he knows that Regulus has to say these things, Walburga would force the words from him one way or another. That doesn’t make it hurt any less.
A gentle hand brushes his hair at the same time a different hand offers a square of chocolate. Three boys crowd around him on the floor, and to Sirius, even their silence was comforting. None of them speak, they help Sirius up to the dorm room. Sirius is grateful for the way his best mates create a wall around him, hiding him away from any passing students.
James starts the shower in their shared bathroom, Remus guides Sirius under the spray and also climbs in behind him. Walburga would smack Sirius silly if she knew he was getting his school robes wet like this but he really doesn’t care. Sirius clings to Remus like a lifeline, and he sort of is.
Later that day, Sirius tosses out his personal wardrobe, all the fancy pureblood clothing Walburga commanded he wear so that he looks like a respectable pureblood. He didn’t want to be the perfect, obedient son anymore, he wanted to be Sirius, just Sirius. His Gryffindor uniform became his armour because they made him different. Sirius borrowed his dormmates’ clothes until James finally snuck into Hogsmeade a week later with his invisibility cloak.
The school year did Sirius a world of good, he pushed his family to the back of his mind. James supplied him with new hair products to style his hair while he started the painstaking task of growing it out. By the time Sirius went home at the end of his first year, he was a whole new person, for the better. But ten whole months of work went down the drain the moment Walburga dragged Sirius off the train platform.
---
Remus remembers standing with James and Peter mere minutes before the Hogwarts train was set to leave. James was fretting, panicking that Sirius might just miss the train and they would have to go through their second year without their best mate. The train horn whistled just as Remus spotted a familiar face. Sirius. He looked exactly like the day they had first met.
Remus swept the boy into his arms, relieved to see him alive and well. It was no secret Sirius’s parents were abusive, they had all heard the howler. He half expected Sirius to be beaten bloody.
What Remus did not expect was his best friend, and secret crush, to push him away and look at him with such disgust it made his stomach churn. The boy glared and stumbled back several steps, almost tripping backwards. “Sirius, what the fuck?”
“I’m not Sirius.” The boy growled just as someone came to stand beside him. Two Sirius’s. Remus looked between the two. Both of them were identical, head to foot, save for the way they held themselves. Even though the two of them had impeccable posture, the Sirius on the left looked proud, too much so. The other Sirius seemed to sink in on himself despite also having a rod straight spine.
“You didn’t tell us Reg looked just like you,” James commented pulling the real Sirius into a hug shortly followed by Remus and Peter. “Hurry up, the train’s about to leave without us.”
“Ever the mother hen, Jamie.” Sirius laughs hooking an arm over Remus’s shoulder, made nearly impossible by the fact that Sirius was over a foot shorter than Remus. Regulus followed them into the compartment Peter had snagged for them earlier. “I’m telling you Regi, Gryffindor would treat you well.”
“You know I can’t do that, Sirius.” Regulus hovers awkwardly by the door even as the rest of the group sprawls haphazardly across the seats. Remus is glad that even though Sirius physically looks prim and proper, he still acts like the same boy they left two months ago.
“You could, you can.” This was apparently the wrong thing to say and it sparks the biggest fight Sirius and Regulus have ever had. It ends in Regulus storming out of the compartment, he goes to Hogwarts by himself, he gets sorted into Slytherin by himself, and he doesn’t talk to Sirius again.
Just like last year the boys, later coined the Marauders, force Sirius into a clothed shower as soon as they can. This time is so much worse though because Sirius loses his little brother, and in a way, he loses himself too.
Over the next few years Sirius grows out his hair, starts wearing eyeliner and biker jackets, he starts doing all the things he knows will piss off his family. Eventually, he falls in love with Remus, they get a flat together right after Hogwarts, he’s the best man at James and Lily’s wedding and he’s happy. Sirius is far happier than he ever would have been if he was an obedient son and sometimes he feels guilty for it. For letting Regulus stay in that house when he himself had to leave, for not being a good big brother.
One day, Remus comes home and finds Sirius in the bathroom. There are clippers on the countertop, long black hair covers the tile floor. Sirius has cut it the same way Walburga used to make them, he’s wiped off the eyeliner and taken out all his piercings. And then he looks from the mirror in front of him to Remus with tears streaming down his cheeks. “I just wanted to see him one more time…”
His doppelgänger is dead and Sirius mourns him. Sirius was not a good son, he was a good person and he would make the same choice a hundred times over, but he should have made the choice for Regulus too. Maybe then he’d still be alive.
Hey... let’s just agree to not mention why I’ve been MIA. Thanks :)
---
Remus has many regrets and most of them are splayed out across his lover’s skin. Slash marks on Sirius’s hip gnarled and pink even though they’d been put there several years ago. Countless smaller scars littered Sirius’s arms and legs but the most recent one was Remus’s biggest regret yet.
This moon had been a bit different than usual, Remus had known it even in the days prior. It made him antsier, angrier, every little thing seemed to set him off. Remus should have told the other marauders to stay away that night but he was selfish, he dreaded spending even a single full moon alone. This poor decision nearly cost Remus everything.
He doesn’t even remember it, Remus isn’t quite sure whether he’s thankful or if he resents not knowing why his wolf nearly snapped his lover’s neck. What could have possibly urged him to grab Padfoot by the neck and try to tear his throat out?
Remus cried so hard when he saw the scar adorning the juncture of where Sirius’s neck meets his shoulder. Most of it was hidden under the collar of his school shirt, all except for two parallel claw marks running up to his cheek. No matter how many times Sirius told him that it wasn’t his fault, it was all okay, Remus couldn’t forgive himself. He begged and pleaded until Sirius finally agreed to stay away for the next few moons.
Even then, Remus couldn’t look at his boyfriend without being overwhelmed by regret. He regretted ever letting the marauders find out about him being a werewolf. He regretted letting them become animagi for him. Hell, Remus regretted meeting them at all. If they had never met, if he had never fallen in love, Sirius would never have gotten hurt and Remus would have never been the one to hurt him.
Years passed and Remus fell more in love with Sirius each passing moon but he never got over his regrets. He accepted them as just another part of himself, as attached as his own scars. Remus never let Sirius find out about them, anytime he felt the twinge of regret tug at his gut, Remus lavished Sirius with love. He may not be able to take back those scars but he sure as hell can try to make up for them, he’ll spend the rest of his life making up for them.
---
It’s a warm summer day when Remus sees the same regrets swimming around in Harry’s eyes. Celebrating their successful graduation after eight years at Hogwarts, the teenagers decided to have a little beach party. Sirius has been all too eager to indulge in their ideas and went all out, decorating Grimmauld Place with fake palm trees and tacky summer prints. He’d even found a temporary pool and set it up in the backyard.
Harry and Draco had finally gotten together a few months ago, to no one’s surprise. Even Sirius had muttered ‘it’s about damn time’ when Remus had told him. It seemed like everyone at the party was a couple, Remus isn’t quite sure he ever saw these pairings coming. Ron and Hermione were obvious, he had seen it the first class he ever taught them, but Luna and Ginny was a pleasant surprise. Neville and Blaise Zabini getting together was also rather out of the blue.
Remus was out of place in his jeans and oversized jumpers considering today’s dress code was purely boldly patterned tourist shirts and bathing suits. He could see Harry glancing worriedly at Draco every few seconds and after several minutes Remus finally figured out what was causing his discomfort. Draco was wearing a bright blue shirt with fluorescent pink flamingos on it and he had left the buttons undone, exposing his pale torso.
They weren’t visible from Remus’s point of view but he knew what Harry was looking at anyway. The Sectumsempra scars. He doesn’t know much about what happened that night, Harry doesn’t like to talk about it, but Remus knows just how guilty Harry feels for causing them. He knows first hand the regret Harry feels any time he looks at them, it’s the same regret Remus feels any time he looks at Sirius, at the scar on his cheek.
Remus waited until Harry was alone, which took quite a while considering teenagers fresh out of a war do not tend to wander too far from their group. Still, he managed to wrangle Harry into helping him set out more diced fruit and soon they were alone in the kitchen.
“Have you two talked about it?” Remus asks as casually as he can manage. He hopes he’s doing the right thing, merlin knows Remus wishes he had someone to help him the way he is trying to help Harry. “The scars, I mean.”
“Once, when I first saw them. He forgives me…” Harry whispers, he fiddles with a square of pineapple.
“But you don’t forgive yourself. I know, better than anyone, I know.” Remus lays a hand on Harry’s shoulder, Harry nods and stuffs the piece of fruit into his mouth. “Do you know how Sirius got that scar on his neck?”
“No, I’ve asked but he just said it was an accident.” Remus nods, turning around to lean back against the counter. Harry watches him, waiting patiently for Remus to continue.
“I nearly killed him, well… I did kill him. Sirius was legally dead for three and a half minutes because I made a mistake. I knew something was wrong before, you know how I get in the days before the full moon. Well, this was worse, so much worse. I should have told them to stay behind, I should have spent that moon alone.” Remus pauses and releases a shaky breath. “Every day I look at the love of my life and I have to stare at the evidence of what I did to him.”
“You don’t forgive yourself either, do you?” Harry asks, Remus shakes his head grimly.
“No, and I don’t think I ever will. We all have regrets, Harry, I’m sure that you have more than most. Those regrets will haunt us for the rest of our lives, but I will not let my guilt push away my favourite person in this whole world. Sirius forgives me and Draco forgives you. Let that be enough.” Remus advises, Harry grips the edge of the countertop so hard his knuckles turn white.
“Does it ever get better? Can I ever look at him without feeling so ashamed of every time I ever hurt him?” Harry is desperate and Remus really wishes he could give him a better answer, but he can’t.
“The feeling will never go away but I can tell you what I do to make it easier. Whenever I feel those nasty little feelings, the ones that make me want to leave Sirius, for his own safety, I love him. I see that scar and I kiss him, or give him chocolate, or make him some tea. I make sure Sirius knows that I love him, I don’t know if he understands that I’m also saying sorry.” Remus pulls a chocolate bar out of the cabinet and breaks off a piece. “I can’t undo what I did, I hurt him, and I keep hurting him. You can’t change what happened either, but they forgive us. Let him love you, it will be the best decision you’ve ever made.”
“Thank you, Remus.” Harry wipes frantically at his eyes and sniffs. “I haven’t told him yet but I’m in love with him. Maybe I always was in some twisted way, but I want him to be it for me. Just like how Sirius is it for you.”
“I want him to be it for you too, kid. I’m sure Lily would have some better advice for you, something like it will all be okay, and James would say something stupid but sweet. I know we aren’t the greatest examples of functioning adults but Sirius and I love you very much.” Remus sweeps Harry up into a vice-like hug, Harry holds on just as tightly.
“Is it horrible to admit that you guys feel like my adoptive dads?” Harry pulls away and grins up at Remus who ruffles his hair affectionately. Remus breaks off two more squares of chocolate and hands them to Harry. “Thanks, for everything.”
Harry is overwhelmed by just how grateful he is to have Remus and Sirius in his life. Remus had known exactly what Harry was feeling and talked him down from a ledge he didn’t even know he was standing on. That’s one thing he always loved about Remus, he never lies.
Both Remus and Sirius tell him the whole truth and don’t try to hide things from him. They were part of the very few people who didn’t use Harry to fulfill their own agenda. They’re his parents, even if his real parents died all those years ago.
Draco grins at him from the pool, his shirt has been carelessly tossed onto one of the many lawn chairs. The sight of the scars on his chest still makes Harry feel nauseous with guilt but Harry shuts up his brain by pressing a square of chocolate against Draco’s lips.
Draco has always had a bit of a sweet tooth and immediately becomes as giddy as a toddler when offered the sweet treat. The look of delight and the kiss Draco replies with instantly makes Harry feel better, Remus really is onto something here.
“I love you,” Harry whispers as he presses a kiss to the scar that runs over Draco’s clavicle. When he pulls away, Draco is watching him with watery eyes and a soft smile. He leans over the edge of the pool to yank Harry into a proper kiss.
“They’ll be okay.” Sirius comments as Remus watches the two boys from across the yard.
“Yeah, they will.” Remus laces their fingers and pulls Sirius’s hand up to kiss the back of it. “And so will we.”
I may be a little obsessed with the werewolf trope, sorry not sorry.
---
Draco knew his past mistakes would come back to bite him in the arse, it was just a matter of time. This was his time. Draco couldn’t even be mad or surprised that his Auror partner locked him in the abandoned warehouse with a wanted criminal. He’s sure Micky had hoped the criminal would kill him, she didn’t though. Instead, she bit him and cackled maniacally that even if she ended up in Azkaban, Draco would never be normal again.
Draco hadn’t known the suspect they were after was a werewolf, Micky had skillfully kept that bit of information out of the briefing. Draco supposes this would have been useful information but there’s nothing he can do about it now. The Healers had fixed up his mangled arm and sent him on his way with a brand new prescription for wolfsbane.
Harry, bless his heart, was absolutely furious when Draco came home. Harry had ranted for twenty minutes about how he was going to use all the power under his name to get Micky arrested for purposefully endangering Draco. “He’s your partner, he should have your back! That bastard tried to have you killed, all because of some petty vendetta.”
“It’s not some schoolyard bullying Harry, I was a Death Eater. Micky has every right to distrust me.” Draco reminds him, taking up residence on the couch. Harry growled and paced the sitting room floor. “What’s done is done. I just need to take my potions and… I don’t know, but it will be fine.”
“It doesn’t matter what you were! He has no right to punish you for it, that’s not his place. You had a fair trial and served out all your punishments without complaint. You’ve been a model citizen ever since. The Ministry has forgiven, he has no right to go over their heads like he did.” Harry pauses his rant to retrieve a letter from the owl tapping at the living room window.
“Dear Mr. Malfoy, we have received the medical report from your healer and henceforth must insist on your early retirement. Werewolves are not among the approved creatures allowed to be employed by the Ministry. Thank you for your cooperation.” The Ministry letter informs them in a sickly sweet tone of voice. The last time Harry got one of these letters he was put on trial for the use of underage magic. It makes his blood boil. Draco looks unfazed and unsurprised.
“I suppose I must find a new job as well.” Draco blinks and looks Harry in the eye for the first time all night. “Shall I find myself a flat while I’m at it?”
“No, what are you talking about?” Harry feels dizzy, confused by Draco’s blank expression. He’s been betrayed, turned into a werewolf and fired all in the span of a few short hours and yet Draco has no reaction whatsoever. He’s perfectly diplomatic.
“I can be out before the full moon, you won’t have to live with a werewolf.” Draco stands and wipes imaginary dust off his pristine robes. “I am sorry to be such a bother, Harry.”
“Draco, you are not going anywhere. You think I’d kick you out just because you’re a werewolf now?” Harry storms across the sitting room to grab both of Draco’s hands. “I love you, always.”
“I love you too, Harry but my life has been going too well lately. I don’t want this, but I won’t ask you to stick around.” Even Draco’s eyes, normally so expressive, are empty. Harry realizes that this is just Draco’s attempt at keeping it together, he will break down later but he’s shut himself down for now.
“No, you aren’t asking, I’m telling you. I am not kicking you out, I want you to stay.” Harry yanks Draco forward into a tight hug. “I’ll ask Remus and Sirius for some pointers, tips to help you get settled and how to deal with your first full moons. We’ll get through this, I’ll be with you the whole way.”
“Okay… that might be nice,” Draco mumbles letting Harry drag him to the couch. One of the throw blankets is draped over him and Harry curls around him.
---
Having Remus as a mentor of sorts became a valuable resource for Draco. He was able to walk Draco through everything to expect, things that will help in the days before the moon and what to do the morning after. Harry also got some great advice from Sirius about how to handle Draco’s inevitable mood swings.
Remus admitted that having the Marauders there in their animagus forms helped him far more than anything that could be done outside of the full moon. Harry had immediately agreed to join Draco during his transformations, eager to help ease his boyfriend’s troubles. It had taken quite a while for Sirius and Remus to convince him to wait several moons before joining Draco.
As a new werewolf, Draco’s first few transformations will be the hardest and he won’t have enough control over himself to keep from hurting Harry. Ultimately it was Draco who finally smacked Harry out of his overeager stupor. He’d pleaded that Harry wait, because the last thing he wanted was to hurt Harry.
Six moons, six whole transformations passed with Harry waiting sleeplessly right outside the door while Draco’s wolf whimpers and whines on the other side. The moment the sun rises and Harry is sure Draco has transformed back, he unlocks the door and scoops Draco up into his arms. Any injuries are healed and then Draco is carried to the bed where he will make tiny grabby hands with a soft smile. He’s always been fond of Harry in his bobcat form but he especially loves cuddling into the soft fur right after the moon. Harry rests his chin on Draco’s arm or leg or side and purrs loud enough for Draco to feel the rumble of it.
Harry wishes he could do more for Draco but this will have to be enough for now. He’ll let Draco grip tightly on his fur and sleep the day away. Draco deeply appreciates Harry staying in his animagus form until Draco finally asks him to turn back from a cat to a man. He appreciates the soothing vibrations of Harry’s purring as he falls asleep for the first time in over twenty-four hours. He still loves the sight of the moon at night, even if once a month it causes him pain.
Harry honestly can’t say he’s surprised that less than a year into being an Auror he’s been left for dead in the middle of a forest. Moonlight trickles in through the gaps in the treetops, Harry can see the reflection in a pool of his own blood.
The Auror Corps have always had too much faith in Harry, they hired him right out of Hogwarts once he had finished his eighth year and didn’t even bother to train him properly. They figured that there’s nothing they could teach the great Harry Potter that he didn’t already know. He defeated Voldemort for Merlin’s sake! And now Harry is going to die just short of his twentieth birthday.
Harry had been sent out to deal with a single rogue werewolf, an easy task for the boy who lived, but the boy who lived went in without knowing proper protocol and completely unaware that he was not after one werewolf.
Harry had stumbled upon the pack by mistake, they had stolen a cow from the farm neighbouring the vast forest and Harry tracked them here. Nothing had suggested the presence of multiple werewolves until it was too late and suddenly Harry was surrounded.
Werewolves are solitary creatures and extremely territorial, especially when food is involved. So Harry is both confused and terrified to find four large werewolves towering over him. Harry remembers the mutilated cow corpse splayed open in the middle of the small clearing, mostly because now he’s on the receiving end of the same treatment.
The werewolves had eventually given up on ripping him to shreds, quickly losing interest once Harry goes limp and feigns death. Harry has no idea what to do, it doesn’t help that he’s losing blood fast and any spell that he casts will surely regain the attention of the werewolves. He doesn’t want to die, not like this, not before he has any chance of actually living his life. Just before he passes out, Harry gives in and casts a Patronus, he watches the stag gallop off to fetch any help it can find.
---
Harry wakes up three months later in St Mungo’s intensive care unit, Draco Malfoy paces at the end of his hospital bed, Healers robes flapping behind him. Harry tries to get Draco’s attention but he’s unable to produce any tangible noise, the best he can do is bang his casted wrist against the plastic railing on the side of the bed. Draco halts midstep, Harry can see the deep rise and fall of Draco’s shoulders before he finally spins around. He stares wide-eyed at Harry holding his breath until he sees that Harry is, in fact, alive and awake.
“Potter!” Draco rushes to his side and smacks his hand down on a button on the wall beside his bed. Harry panics a little, he’s not dead so why is Draco hitting the button. Several healers and nurses rush into the room each checking and cataloging a different injury. “I need to call the others.”
“Mr. Potter, can you speak?” An unfamiliar healer stands at his side but Harry is too busy watching Draco rush from the room, already summoning his Patronus. The healer shines a bright light in his eyes, both getting Harry’s attention and making him cringe away. “Can you understand me? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”
One blink. The healer nods, seemingly satisfied by his answer. The nurses cast several spells in quick succession, Harry has no clue what any of them are for. “Good, good. How is the pain? Do you want a pain-numbing potion?” Two blinks.
Harry shakes his head, trying to sort himself out. He opens his mouth to speak but once again, no sound comes out. Instead, Harry is left mouthing a silent ‘Draco’, the healer looks surprised. All the nurses but one file out of the room, the last one scribbles various notes into Harry’s medical chart. “Healer Malfoy is just outside making sure your friends know you’re awake. I’m Healer Wilson, I’ve been taking care of you since you came in.”
Draco appears in the doorway, hovering there nervously. “Potter, may I come in?” Harry nods eagerly, Draco takes slow apprehensive steps until he comes to stand on the other side of Harry’s bed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Healer Malfoy─”
“No, he deserves to know everything that happened. I’ve known him a lot longer, Harry trusts me more, I should be the one to tell him. Everything.” Draco argues, Harry has no idea why Draco needs to demand such things, he’s been Harry’s healer since he became an Auror.
“Mr. Potter, Draco Malfoy is no longer your healer but he does know all the details of your injuries, would you like to hear it from him or from me?” Healer Wilson looks almost smug, like he’s sure he’s won some fight Harry doesn’t know the meaning of. Harry bumps Draco with his wrist again and Healer Wilson’s smirk drops, Draco just looks slightly green. “Very well, touch this button if you need any assistance.”
“It’s true, I’m not your healer anymore, but I was when you got here…” Draco waits until both Healer Wilson and the nurse leave before he pulls up a chair beside Harry’s bed. He sits stiffly, wiping microscopic dust specs from his robes. You were brought in by an Auror team, they said you were out on a solo mission.”
“Werewolves.” Harry chokes out, Draco purses his lips and nods.
“Yes, you were nearly dead, it was the weakest pulse I’ve ever seen. You had─ merlin, so much was wrong. All of the ligaments in your hand were completely torn, your forearm was ribbons. Your leg was shattered in so many places we had to vanish all the bones and you had to regrow them all. There’s a pretty sizable scar on your face, sorry about that. The worst part was your torso, you were completely disembowelled and there was another hole in your chest, I had to watch your heart beating through it.” Draco shudders, the last thing he wants to do is relive the worst moments of the past few months but Harry needs to know.
“I had to put you in a medical coma and even then it was pretty touch and go. For the first few weeks, you coded daily and I barely managed to get you back each time. By the end of the first month, you stopped coding and I actually had hope.” Draco is tearing up now but doesn’t move, ever the pinnacle of professionalism. Or maybe he’s just ignoring it so that he can finish. “You died five weeks ago. Every hour I had to come save you and every hour you died again. I lost it, like I nearly lost you. I became so hysterical they had to escort me from the room while Healer Wilson took over.”
“Draco…” Harry whispers. There’s so much he wants to say but he can’t. Harry wants to grab Draco’s hand, wants to hold him close, but he can’t do that either.
“I was kicked off your case because I care about you too much, I can’t do my job properly. I’ll never be allowed to heal you again. That might have been the hardest part, I didn’t trust anyone to take better care of you than I could but suddenly I wasn’t even allowed to touch you. I became a visitor as much as Granger and Weasley were, they came as much as they could during the day and I stayed in between my own cases.”
“I’m a werewolf aren’t I?” It’s the most Harry’s been able to say and his voice breaks several times. Draco nods and gasps back a sob, he drops his head so that Harry can’t see him crying.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” Draco sniffs and wipes his eyes. “Granger and Weasley will be here any minute. I understand if you want me to leave and never come back, I crossed a line and almost killed you.”
“Stay.” Harry shifts his hand over to hang off the bed, he’s able to wiggle one of his fingers enough to draw Draco’s attention to it. “Please.”
“Okay,” Draco’s smile is weak but he reaches out to gently hold Harry’s finger, too afraid to do anything else in case he accidentally hurts Harry.
---
It takes another seven weeks for Harry to be released from St Mungos. Draco, Hermione and Ron all take the day off work to take him back to Grimmauld Place. As much as Harry insisted that he could make it back home by himself, he was secretly very grateful for their help. With all the damage those rogue werewolves had inflicted on Harry’s body, many things could not be fully healed. Harry’s right hand was destroyed, the most he could do was wiggle his fingers a bit. He also had a bit of trouble walking due to various leg and hip injuries, after weeks of physiotherapy Harry no longer needs a walker but he still has a long way to go.
Draco was the most supportive and helpful out of the lot. He helps explain everything in Harry’s chart, adequately dumbing down all the medical terms so that he can understand. Harry can tell that he worries a lot about overstepping Harry’s wishes because he’s a Healer but Harry thanks him daily. No one is able to get Harry out of bed to do his physio like Draco can.
Harry was downright miserable at first, being nineteen and suddenly disabled isn’t easy, physically or mentally. Harry had whined and cried and even yelled, Draco had let him. Draco took it because he knew that’s what Harry needed, but he also dragged Harry’s miserable butt out of bed to walk laps around the hallways.
Harry hated Draco. He hated how much everything hurt and how useless he felt and Draco was always there, insisting he put himself through more pain. He hated how guilty he felt while yelling at Draco because he knew Draco didn’t deserve it. Draco didn’t rip him apart, he was the only reason he survived at all, and he just took all the abuse Harry threw at him without complaint.
Now at Grimmauld, Draco forced Harry to keep up with his exercises and stopped by to check on him every day. Harry was getting better, he still complained plenty but not once has he yelled at Draco since leaving the hospital.
Ron and Hermione helped too but it was obvious they didn’t fully understand. Harry is hurt physically but it’s the mental frustrations of not being able to do basic tasks that bug Harry the most. He can’t run or work out or even hold anything in his right hand. Draco understands, he lets Harry cry into his shoulder, he holds Harry and kisses his forehead in his worst moments.
Harry quits his job and leaves the Ministry with a big ‘fuck you’ to everyone in the office. Draco stays with him the whole way, he celebrates with Harry when he gets a teaching job at Hogwarts. He moves into Grimmauld and into Harry’s bed when they finally confess to each other. It’s been many years and several deaths in the making but they’re happy for the first time in a long time.
Hey guys, I wrote an extended version of Prompt 14: Faking (Wolfstar) and posted it on my Ao3 since it is highly explicit so if you want to read it, here is the name and link
Faking It (but we made it)
please enjoy! also feel free to submit any prompts or tropes you would like me to write.
I have written an extended version of this one shot and posted it on my Ao3, it is explicit and quite long so I will not be posting it here as well. Please pop on over and give it a read if you have the time.
Faking (explicit)
Also feel free to suggest any prompts or tropes you would like to see.
---
Sirius could see Remus glancing at him from the bar, even as he talked to some guy Remus looked over at him every few seconds raising his eyebrows slightly. Sighing Sirius stood and slapped the tabletop to get his friend’s attention. “I’ll be right back, dear Remy’s in trouble.”
Sirius weaved in and out of the crowd standing between Remus and the rest of the group’s little table. Remus instantly looked relieved to see Sirius approaching and eagerly pulled him right into his side as soon as Sirius got close enough. The man, now standing in front of them, looked mildly surprised and Sirius felt the same. Remus didn’t usually hang onto him like this but now, he was practically glued to him. “Babe, I was just telling this man how it’s our anniversary today.”
“I was wondering what happened, twenty minutes is an awfully long time to fetch a glass of wine.” Sirius smiled to cover up what otherwise would have been a grimace caused by Remus pinching his ribs. Clearly, Sirius has now been caught up in a lie fabricated to get this man off of Remus’s back. Sirius can only hope that he doesn’t accidentally say something that contradicts the story that Remus has already told.
“I’m sorry, we just got to talking and I lost track of time. And now I’m out of wine, do you want a top-up too, love?” Remus asks kissing Sirius on the cheek. He nods and Remus turns away to talk to the bartender, without even looking Remus finds his hand and tangles their fingers together.
“I’m sorry, Rem didn’t mention your name, what was it?” Sirius asks bringing their hands up to kiss the back of Remus’s hand. The hand tightens around his but Remus doesn’t pull away, the man watches with a raised eyebrow.
“Mathias,” The man replies holding his hand out for a customary handshake. Sirius is spared by Remus placing a fresh butterbeer in his free hand. “I have to admit, I didn’t believe him when Remus said he had a husband, I mean he doesn’t even have a ring.”
“Oh yeah no, we get that a lot. Remus doesn’t like rings because they catch on his jumpers and I thought they were just too mainstream so we got tattoos instead.” Sirius lies quickly Remus smirks into his wine.
“Oh that’s cool, can I see?” The man requests, clearly he still suspects they’re lying and that he’s finally found out how to expose them.
“Oh yeah sure.” Sirius hands his butterbeer over to Remus and quickly unbuttons his shirt. Pulling the collar aside he exposes the moon tattoo on his peck, it’s a magical tattoo that changes to reflect the current phase of the real moon. “Back in school we gave each other little nicknames and I always call him Moony. I make sure to take him out on a date every time the moon is full.”
“Wow, that’s very nice… What’s your tattoo?” The man asks Remus looking a little put-out. Sirius moves behind Remus with a smug look, resting his hands on Remus’s hips. While making direct eye contact with the man Sirius slowly lifts one side of Moony’s jumper to reveal the dog paw on his ribcage. Once the man looks at it Sirius drops the fabric but presses his hand to Remus’s bare stomach underneath it. Remus is not sure he’s ever seen someone make such a hasty escape, Sirius laughs lowly in his ear.
“What a prat.” Sirius rolls his eyes and takes a big gulp of his butterbeer. Remus nods and brings the wine glass up to his lips but doesn’t drink. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, thank you. You know Sirius, you make a pretty fantastic fake husband.” Remus laughs, Sirius can feel his stomach flex and shake beneath his palm. “For a second, even I forgot you’re not in love with me.”
“Ah but Remus, I wasn’t faking that. I was just lying about being your husband.” Sirius admits dropping a kiss onto the base of Remus’s neck. Pulling away, Sirus turns to head back to their table at the back of the bar. Remus catches his wrist and yanks him back, two hands fist the fabric of his half undone button-up and Remus’s lips land on his.
“I know I asked you to pretend to be my lover but I didn’t expect you to give me this while doing it,” Remus mumbles, pressing himself against Sirius. Feeling the hard pressure against his thigh, Sirius grins wickedly.
“I’m so sorry my dear husband, how could I be so cruel to you on our anniversary.” Sirius mocks pulling Remus closer. “Will you let me make it up to you?”
“Only if you agree to do rings when you propose.” Remus teases tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of Sirius’s neck.
“When I propose? Why am I the one that’s going to do it?” Sirius inquires kissing the corner of Moony’s wine-stained lips.
“Because I couldn’t resist proposing right now and you haven’t even agreed to be my boyfriend yet,” Remus whines letting Sirius guide him out of the pub.
“I like husband better but I’ll deal with boyfriend for now.” Sirius wraps an arm around Remus’s shoulders and kisses his cheek before apparating them away.
I feel like death so this took far longer than it ever should have but better late than never. Also feel free to suggest a prompt if there’s something you’d like to read.
---
Harry hasn't slept in three days and twenty-two hours. He can't, not when his Auror partner Draco Malfoy is missing or possibly dead, Harry won't stop until he is found.
They had been talking on the muggle mobile as they often did since Harry had gotten one for Draco several Christmases ago, then it happened. Just as Harry had been about to invite Draco out for a rather fancy dinner, Draco had cursed loudly and dropped the phone. All Harry's nerves from asking Draco out on a date instantly vanished, replaced by blind fear as he listened to Draco screaming for help. Screaming for Harry.
Ron watch anxiously as Harry paced his office in the DMLE. He wasn't technically supposed to be here, Robards had heavily suggested Harry used his paid leave to hide at home, in case the same people that took Draco were after him too. Harry ignored him and very reluctantly agreed to let Ron tail him, only because Ron could help him find Draco. With his help, they had picked apart the office and Draco's desk countless times but ultimately found nothing useful.
Harry searched through his texts, hoping that there was something he might have missed. Nothing. There is no indication that Draco noticed something off, no strange vehicles, no one following him, nothing. Harry does remember the location services though, and suddenly Harry is seeing a light at the end of this nightmarish tunnel.
Thank Merlin for Hermione Jean Granger, the brightest witch of her age. It takes her three whole minutes to track Draco's mobile and send the location to Harry, Ron barely manages to convince Harry to side-along instead of apparating himself. "You won’t be able to help Malfoy if you splinch yourself, let me do this."
"I'm fine, Ron. We don't have time for this, we need to find Draco." Harry snaps gathering up his outer robes and wand. Ron stands between him and the door pushing back when Harry tries to shove him out of the way.
"You are exhausted Harry, all I'm asking is for you to let me apparate us. I've slept, you haven't, who do you think is going to do a better job?" Ron asks, he's worried about his best friend. Harry cares so much that he wants to risk permanently maiming himself to get to Draco, Ron can't tell if it's because the sleep deprivation is making him reckless and desperate or if he's really this hopeless when it comes to Malfoy.
"Fine, but hurry up." Harry finally pushes Ron out of the way and stalks out of the DMLE. The moment they reach the apparition point Harry thrusts his hand out and grabs Ron's forearm. They land in a back alley, Harry stumbles away from Ron and hunches over, apparition has always made him nauseous but this time the effects are doubled due to him already being so tired and out of it. Slowly straightening back up, Harry pulls out his mobile and dials Draco's number, the ringtone sounds from behind a large bin.
"Got it," Ron calls fishing the phone out of its hiding spot. The screen is cracked but the mobile is otherwise functional, the kidnapper must have thought they broke it completely. "It must be a muggle-born, or at the very least someone well acquainted with the muggle world, how else would they know to smash it?"
"Your probably right, Purebloods don't usually know mobile phones exist, let alone that we could track it. Whoever did this knew they needed to hide it..." Harry mumbles looking at the phone, the screen is so damaged that it doesn't even light up, it's a miracle the rest works at all. "Diagnostic spells, see if you can find any magical signatures anywhere."
"Already on it, mate," Ron replies waving his wand over the garbage bin, Harry turns and casts the same spell on the ground of the alleyway. There is a large mark slumped against one wall, it seeps out Draco's magic. Harry moves further down and finds blood at the mouth of the alley, also Draco's. He's just about to comment on it when Ron calls him over, "I got something, right here on the wall."
"Oh thank Merlin," Harry sighs in relief and casts a diagnostic spell over the spot that Ron points out. A handprint, not Draco's but definitely a man. "Fuck!"
"What? What is it?" Ron asks, startled by Harry's sudden outburst.
"A few weeks ago, Draco and I were working on a case. Illegal potions, he was trying to replicate centuries-old recipes, they've been outlawed for centuries. We caught the guy and the case wrapped up fairly easily but Draco was sure there was something missing. We revisited the warehouse and found a second magical signature, we assumed it was a partner, someone who commissioned the experiments. The brewer insisted that he was given people to use the potions on, but he wouldn't say anything else." Harry explains with a sigh rubbing a hand over his face. "It's the same signature, and whoever it belongs to is capable of very bad things. We can only hope he didn't find a new potioneer to continue the experiments."
"Oh crap, we have to find Malfoy quick. Do you think they would go back to the warehouse?" Ron asks summoning his patrons. "Find Robards, tell him Malfoy's disappearance has to do with the potions case, we're on our way to the scene now."
"It's likely. That place was perfect for their work, layout, location, everything. Aurors cleared out of there last week, no one's been there since, it would give them the opportunity to start back up again." Harry hooks his arm with Ron's and apparates them before he has time to complain. "Sorry, you're shite at blind apparition."
"Shut up, let's go find Malfoy," Ron whispers loudly pulling out his wand. Harry digs through the small pouch on his hip, Hermione had given it to him for his birthday last year, equipped with the same extension charm as her bag from years ago. Finding his invisibility cloak, Harry pulls it out and drapes it over the both of them, they have to lean over to keep their shoes hidden. They search the building room by room, the main floor is just as empty as it was all those weeks ago and after clearing every floor, Harry points toward the stairs leading down to the basement.
The main hallway is empty and quiet, large cages line one wall. Harry remembers clear as day how Draco has suggested this was once used as a dog kennel when they were first here. Harry expects to find Draco in one of them and is quite disappointed when they reach the end of the hallway and find each cage empty. Standing just in front of the heavy steel door Ron holds out his hand expectantly, quickly unravelling the extendable ears that Harry hands him. He slips one end under the door and listens... "All clear."
"Good," Harry whispers back. It takes several spells cast from the both of them before the door pops open slightly. The door is rusty and groans lowly when Harry moves it so he pulls it open just enough for them to slip through one by one. Draco is sitting in an old medical chair in the middle of the room, gagged and bound. Potion bottles line every available surface, tables beside the chair, shelves along the walls. "Merlin, Draco."
Harry tries to push off the invisibility cloak but Ron grabs him before he has a chance and points towards a camera set up on one of the tables. Together Harry and Ron shuffle closer to Draco careful not to disturb anything on their way. When they get close enough, Harry brushes the back of Draco's hand, it jerks in surprise but Draco manages to stay otherwise still. "Got you," Harry whispers quietly, Draco's responding nod is so subtle there's no way the camera could pick it up.
Harry is wracking his brain for what to do when Minister Shacklebolt's Patronus comes plodding into the room. "The perpetrators have been apprehended thanks to you, focus on finding Auror Malfoy."
Draco sighs something but it's made indecipherable by the gag in his mouth, in an instant Harry whips off the cloak. Ron helps undo the straps tying Draco down while Harry pulls off the gag. "Harry..."
"Hush. I've got you, it's all okay now." Harry uses one hand to undo the strap on Draco's left wrist while also petting Draco's hair with his free hand. In the time it takes Ron to undo both ankle straps and the other wrist, Harry just manages to undo the one strap. Draco collapses forward into Harry's open arms, both of them are crying but no one mentions it. Ron lays a soft hand on Harry's shoulder, Harry scoops up Draco and carries him out of the warehouse.
Robards and Shacklebolt are waiting outside with a team of Aurors, they offer weak smiles and suggest Ron apparate Draco straight to St. Mungos. Ron tries to take Draco from Harry but Draco won't let go, clinging to Harry like a child to his mother. Harry holds him just as tightly but offers his forearm to Ron who grasps it and apparates them. It's not easy with an extra person and the landing is a little rough but the three of them make it to the St. Mungos emergency ward in one piece.
Healers whisk Draco away in a flurry of robes and Harry is left standing in a now empty hallway with Ron at his side. "We found him."
"Yes we did, Harry. Malfoy is safe now." Ron pats Harry's shoulder with a smile. "Now you need to go and rest."
"Not until I know those bastards didn't do anything to him," Harry replies slumping against a nearby wall. Without fear and adrenaline keeping him going, four days of no sleep is finally catching up.
"Auror Potter, Auror Weasley." A healer calls stepping out from one of the rooms. "Auror Malfoy is fine, miraculously. All diagnostics confirm dehydration and malnutrition but other than that he is fairly healthy. He's asleep now but I expect a night of rest and a hot meal will put him right as rain."
"Will he be staying overnight?" Ron asks as they follow the healer into Draco's room. In such a short amount of time, they've already got him set up on a cot but they haven't changed him into the uncomfortable St. Mungos gowns.
"If he has someone to look after him, Auror Malfoy could go home, if not he can stay." The healer states as they gather around the end of the bed. "Someone needs to be there if he starts to panic during the night. I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't remember being rescued."
"I could take him, look after him for the night. Would it be harmful to wake him up? Just long enough to ask what he wants." Harry asks. Ron shoots him a look but doesn't say anything.
"I don't see it causing any great harm. You're his partner, it would be best if someone he's familiar with wakes him." The healer shrugs watching closely as Harry moves to stand beside Draco's cot.
"Draco..." Harry brushes the hair away from Draco's face, it's caked with days worth of dirt and sweat. He wakes slowly and blinks lazily at Harry. "Hey, you're at Mungos, they say you're gonna be just fine."
"Salazar, Harry, you look like shit." Draco croaks miserably. Harry smiles and grasps his hand, squeezing it lightly.
"Well you had to go and get yourself kidnapped, it's been hell on my beauty sleep. "Listen, they said you can go home if you want to but someone has to stay with you. Do you want to stay with me for a few days until you're feeling better or do you want to stay here?"
"Get me out of here, it smells like sterilization charms," Draco mumbles closing his eyes again, the Healer nods and writes something at the bottom of her clipboard.
"Alright, you go back to sleep. I'll sort out all the paperwork and wake you again when it's time to go." Harry says patting Draco's hair, the former Slytherin doesn't respond seemingly asleep already. "Is there any medications he'll need?"
"I'll give you a few anti-anxiety potions, dreamless sleep, possibly a pain-numbing and a pepper-up potion, just in case." The Healer lists, she writes every potion down on her prescription pad before ripping the note off and handing it to Harry. "You'll want to get some food into him sooner rather than later."
"You sit down and get discharge papers, I'll pick up the potions." Ron takes the script and leaves before Harry even has time to respond, the healer leaves shortly after. Now alone, Harry drops into the chair beside Draco's cot. He's vaguely aware of Robards and Kingsley stopping by to update him on the case but he's overall too exhausted to care about anything other than Draco.
"We got them both, the original boss and his new potioneer. They're both going away for a long time." Kingsley tells him, sitting at the end of Draco's bed. "Ron will be handling all the case wrap-up reports while you and Draco spend the next week recuperating. And Harry, next time Robards tells you to take some time off you will do it. Or I will be coming down on you personally, you understand?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you, really." Harry grins tiredly. The force of Kingsley's hand coming down on his shoulder threatens to knock him over but even half-asleep Harry manages to keep himself seated.
"Get some sleep Harry, you need it, and make sure Draco gets some rest too." Robards insists before he and Kingsley leave.
Once Harry has all the potions Draco will need and he is officially discharged, Harry scoops Draco up and carries him to the hospital's floo point. It's far easier than apparating and right now Harry needs all the energy he can get. Draco is dead to the world as Harry tucks him into his bed and Harry doesn't have the heart to wake him just yet. In fact, all he wants to do is slide in beside the blond and fall asleep but there's so much work to do. Kreacher appears with a light crack and immediately starts griping about the dust and dirt Harry dragged in. Eventually, he agrees to make dinner for both Aurors and Harry stomps into the bathroom.
Harry fills a basin with warm water and grabs a fresh washcloth, he sets both items on the small table beside his bed. Harry starts with Draco's hands, gently running the wet cloth over the dirty skin. Draco wakes as Harry moves the rag over his collarbone, groaning loudly. Harry shushes him and wipes the grime from his forehead. "He came out of nowhere, I didn't even know he was following me."
"I know, it's all over now, we got him this time." Harry tries to clean Draco's neck but the blond's hand comes up to grab his wrist. "I was terrified, hearing you scream on the mobile, I've never felt so helpless."
"You look like you haven't slept in days." Draco laughs but his grip on Harry's hand tightens.
"I haven't but let me clean you up and then I'll go crash in the spare bedroom." Harry answers but Draco shakes his head.
"Stay with me? Please, I─ just don't leave me alone." Draco requests, his eyes are watery and he hates feeling so pathetic but he really does not want Harry to leave. Harry nods but asks Draco to sit up and take off his shirt. Once Draco is undressed and has had a quick wipe down, Harry dumps out the basin into the bathroom sink and climbs into bed with Draco. "This might be a bad time but I─ I need to say it. During those days I was stuck in that chair, I didn't know if I would ever get out of there. If you would find me before those men used me as their test subject. I thought I would die before I ever got the chance to tell you that I am in love with you."
"Draco, just before... well, I was trying to ask you out. Dinner, at your favourite restaurant, candle-lit, romantic." Harry confesses wrapping Draco up in a tight hug, Draco buries his face in Harry's neck. "You can say yes in the morning when I ask you properly. For now, I suggest a full day of sleep, it's been a long week."
Seventeen hours later Draco wakes up whining for food. Harry feels heavy, sleeping for too long has made him stiff and sore but the way Draco smiles at him over the dinner Kreacher cooked makes him feel like the luckiest man on earth. Later, they sleep for another twelve hours, curled up in each other’s arms. It takes three days before Harry finally asks for that date and another two before Draco stops teasing and accepts. It doesn't matter though, Draco officially moves in by the end of their week-long vacation and Harry never has to sleep alone again.
So, after spending all day in the ER I have not had time to write the next prompt and henceforth will be postponing it until tomorrow. I am working on a little side piece though so hopefully I can post that next week (Don’t quote me on that). Love you all
Sometimes you just have to celebrate your birthday with a fresh one shot and two new piercings. Love you all!
---
Harry never believed in soulmates, not the muggle kind, where two people could be perfect together, nor the magical kind, a more real and tangible connection. He didn’t even know about soul marks until after his 18th birthday when he found a small mark on his back, just above his left buttock. The only reason he’d even seen it was a quick glimpse in the mirror as he stepped out of the shower.
Given its odd location, Harry hesitated telling anyone about it. Eventually, though, he brought it up to Ron, theoretically at first. He didn’t want to sound crazy, but Ron had immediately caught on. Coming from a long line of purebloods Ron had known almost immediately why Harry had asked.
“That’s my bad man, sometimes I still forget you were raised by those muggles. Of course you wouldn’t know, it’s your soul mark. They show up when you turn eighteen. Mione and I have matching marks, you were there on my birthday… You know, Harry, you’ve been really out of it lately. Are you sure that mind healer is helping?” Ron asks, laying a hand on Harry’s knee.
“I think it’s the potions, sometimes they make me a bit spacey,” Harry admits. “I’ll talk to them about adjusting the dosages.”
“That sounds like a good idea, mate. Anyway, what is your mark?” Ron asks eagerly. “Do you think it’s someone you already know?”
“I don’t really know, I can’t see it well.” Harry feels his face heating up, “it’s in a rather… awkward spot.
“It’s on your arse, isn’t it? Oh merlin, of course you would get your soul mark on your buttcheek!” Ron’s cackling only intensifies when Harry nods sheepishly. “Well come on then, we’re mates. Drop trow and let me get a good look at it.”
“Are you serious?” Harry stops and waits, when Ron doesn’t respond he sighs and stands. “Whatever, it’s right here.”
Harry pulls his jeans down just enough to expose the little black mark. He still can’t get a good look at it but Ron leans in close to inspect. Merlin, if anyone were to walk in on them right now… “It’s still black so it’s not anyone you’ve interacted with since your birthday. It’s supposed to turn gold when you touch your soulmate, I barely remember what mine looked like before Hermione kissed me.”
“What is it though? That’s a clue about who it is right?” Harry asks finally pulling his trousers back up as sitting down.
“Yeah, that’s the idea, some are easier to figure out than others. Mione got a spider and we weren’t sure until I got a book. Yours is a small dragon, a Hungarian Horntail I think.” Ron confirms leaning back in his seat, thinking. “You don’t think it could be Charlie, do you?”
“I hope not, I love him… but in the same way I like you and Hermione.” Harry shuddered a little, Charlie is admittedly a very attractive bloke but Harry’s sure he could never go there. Ron grimaces and gives a similar shiver of disgust.
---
Harry forgets about his soul mark, he’s never had much luck in his life and he doubts a soulmate will change that much. His contract as a Quidditch coach begins soon anyway so he focuses on getting his potion doses under control. The mind healer had several theories about what was causing Harry’s dissociative episodes and the dose size was one of them. When lowering the frequency didn’t work, they resorted to the second theory, a bad reaction to one of the potions.
Midway through October, two months after Harry’s birthday, he is forced to visit a new apothecary, one with a Potions Master the mind healer guarantees will find the source of Harry’s problems. He does not expect the Potions Master in question to be Draco Malfoy.
To his credit, Malfoy is exceedingly polite and professional during their entire consultation. He works swiftly and with such an air of pureblood grace that Harry watches in awe as Malfoy moves about his lab. It takes less than half an hour for Malfoy to deduce the precise ingredient that is causing Harry’s reactions.
Harry tries to think of a way to invite Malfoy out for coffee without sounding like a creep but ultimately gives up when Malfoy hands over a new set of potions, this time without the allergen in it. Fingers brush when the bag is exchanged and a spark ignites under Harry’s skin. Malfoy jumps and jerks his hand away, all six potion bottles shatter on the tile floor.
“Shit! I am so sorry!” Malfoy quickly pulls out his wand and leans over the counter to clear the mess. His cheeks are a rather dark shade of red and now he avoids looking anywhere near Harry. “I will make you a new batch right away, I just need a few hours.”
“Don’t fret, it was an accident.” Harry flexes and wiggles his fingers experimentally, they’re still tingling from the weird electric shock. “That was weird though right?”
“Not exactly weird per se... “ Malfoy looks down and tugs the leg of his trousers up just enough to reveal a gold scythe on his ankle. “Where’s your mark?”
“My what?” Harry asks confused by the sudden question. Malfoy steps out from behind the counter and scans Harry’s exposed skin with his eyes.
“Your soul mark, it showed up two and a half months ago. On your birthday. Granger must have told you all about it. Where is it?” Malfoy pinches Harry’s wrist between two fingers and turns his arm to inspect him. Pleasant little tingles emit from where Draco’s fingertips are touching him.
“It’s a dragon on my back, why?” The pieces fall together as soon as the question is spoken aloud. “Merlin, it’s a dragon… Draco─”
“Hush, let me see it.” Draco yanks Harry around and pushes him up against the counter. Harry barely has time to register the new position before Draco is forcefully untucking his shirt and pushing it out of the way. “It’s not here.”
“Lower.” Harry grits out bracing his elbows on the glass countertop, it’s high enough that he doesn’t even have to hunch over. “On the left.”
“Really?” Draco doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry. He reckons he’s moments away from doing both. Hesitating for a moment Draco sighs before reaching around Harry to undo his belt, it gives him enough space to pull the edge of his jeans down. “Gold. It’s gold.”
“Gold, really?” Harry can see his reflection in the glass turning red. Draco tugs the jeans back into place and lets Harry’s shirt fall back down. It’s rumpled from where it was grasped in Draco’s tight fist.
“Harry, you’re my soulmate.” Draco takes several steps back and watches Harry turn to face him. Neither of them knows what to do, they’ve never been exactly friendly with each other. Sure, Draco has had a bit of a crush since fourth year but still. And maybe Harry had several dreams about bending Draco over his desk but he hasn’t seen the blond in years. “A dragon, that one’s pretty obvious isn’t it?”
“Yeah, you should have been the first one I thought of but I kind of thought Ron was full of shit, to be honest. He could have tattooed me on my sleep and then made up some shite about soulmates. I didn’t think it was real.” Harry admits scratching the back of his neck. “Can I… could I see yours? Just, if you’re okay with that.”
“You want to know what was chosen to symbolize you?” Draco smiles shyly and hops up to sit on the counter. Harry nods and watches Draco fold up his pant leg, seeing the scythe for the first time. “Kinda scary, right? I was bloody well pissed when it showed up. Pans joked that they were either dead or a farmer. I’ve been kind of scared she might be right…”
“Well I’m not dead, but I did die.” Harry shrugs and smiles. He doesn’t really want to ask but he also desperately needs to know, he asks anyway. “Are you disappointed that it’s me?”
“No!” Draco waves his hands between them and sheepishly adds, “I got drunk because I didn’t think I could handle looking at my mark and knowing it wasn’t you. I figured your soulmate’s mark would be a lightning bolt because… well obviously that just makes sense.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m rather glad it’s you too.” Harry grins and steps forward to stand in between Draco’s legs. “I really want to kiss you. Can─”
Draco’s hands shoot out to grab Harry’s shirt collar, hauling him forward into a bruising kiss. Those sparks are back but tenfold, setting Harry on fire like a bag of fireworks. It’s like his senses have been set to level a hundred, overwhelming Harry with everything Draco.
“Potions. I need to brew your potions.” Draco breaks away with a dazzling smile, Harry already wants to kiss him again. “Stay with me?”
“You’re going to regret those words Draco Malfoy,” Harry grins and follows Draco into the shop’s backroom.
This one is a little bit shorter but today has been really rough so this is better than nothing.
---
Remus hates the day after the full moon, he's always hurt and beyond exhausted. He just wanted to be normal but in the days closest to the full moon Remus feels anything but human. The only sliver of joy he gets is when Sirius sneaks in to see him. As soon as Poppy finishes bandaging him up and shuffles back to her bed chambers Sirius will slip off the invisibility cloak and gingerly climb up into the bed. He's always extremely gentle as he cuddles up with Remus, he takes every injury into account and carefully skirts around them as they rearrange themselves on the small cot.
Remus is never really coherent during these sessions but Sirius doesn't mind. He's perfectly happy to just hold Remus while he sleeps. One night, several full moons ago Remus had commented that hearing Sirius's voice soothed him no matter how out of it he was so Sirius started reading or even just rambling on about whatever he could come up with.
On better days Remus would talk back or even just smile and play with Sirius's fingers while he read aloud. On bad days he could barely stay awake and when he was conscious, all Remus could do was whimper and whine in pain.
This month, it was one of the bad days. Poppy had spent hours healing his various injuries, several broken bones and countless deep cuts. Sirius had crawled into bed with him as soon as Poppy went to bed but Remus hurt too much to let Sirius hold him.
Sirius hates these nights the most, he just wants to take his lover's pain away but all he can do is watch him shudder and shake. Occasionally he'll swipe Remus's sweat-soaked hair away from his forehead and press a kiss to the clammy skin. There are only so many numbing potions that Remus can safely take and he's already maxed out so Sirius just has to let Remus suffer.
They eventually fall asleep sometime after the sun already starts rising. Poppy comes to check on Remus but stops dead in her tracks when she sees Sirius curled up on the cot too, his face pressed into Remus’s hair. She generously gives them a few more hours of peace, Merlin knows they both need it after such a rough night.
When Remus wakes, late in the afternoon, Sirius has moved to his back and folded his arm under Remus’s head. Sirius always looks so much younger when asleep, the world weighs heavily on him except for in these hours. With plenty of rest and Sirius beside him Remus feels supremely thankful to whatever god has granted him the privilege of watching this gorgeous man sleep.
If turning into a horrible monster one night a month is the price for having this boy by his side, that’s a price Remus is willing to play. He can only hope that Sirius doesn’t realize he doesn’t deserve this kindness. He doesn’t deserve the time Sirius spends taking care of him, holding him during his worst moments.
He didn’t know that he only had 40 more moons until Sirius left him. Remus wished he savoured them more, he also wished he didn’t enjoy them at all.
