Draco arrives to the International Portkey Office with a mystery novel in one hand and a magically-enhanced suitcase containing absolutely everything he owns in the other.
Well, not quite everything he owns. He left both his umbrella and his favorite cookbook (Accio Asiago Cheese), both presents from Harry. Two of the three sweaters Harry forgot at his place too.
“France,” Draco tells the portkey officer when they ask for his destination. “Paris, to be precise. I’m moving in with my boyfriend.”
The word boyfriend sticks to his tongue. He hasn’t seen Dominic in almost six months, and then the owl. My roommate isn’t renewing his lease. Might you be interested in taking his place?
Harry hadn’t been impressed. “It’s so clinical. Where’s the romance? He lives in Paris. Shouldn’t he know about romance? You deserve someone who wants to live with you because he wants you, not just because he doesn’t want to loose his apartment. Someone who will fight for you, who will chase you if you ever try to leave because life without you is … hard to imagine.”
Don’t think about Harry. Don’t think about his pretty words.
“Passport, please,” the stewardess says when Draco gets to the front of the departure line.
He’s digging through the contents of his bag when he hears the footsteps.
Draco turns around. “Ron?”
The redhead is braced against a wall. “Do you have any water? I just ran all the way here from — huff — you know, from the front. And let me tell you I am not in the same shape I was when we were in school. Whoo. Seriously, anybody got any water? I’m kind of a war hero, if that persuades you one way or the other.”
A nearby passenger hands him a water bottle.
“What are you doing here, Weasley?”
Ron downs half the bottle’s contents, swallows. “Right. I’m here to tell you not to take that portkey. Dominic’s not a good bloke, doesn’t appreciate you at all.”
“I haven’t talked to you in almost a year, and I certainly never mentioned my boyfriend to you.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to have an opinion about your boyfriend, but I have to because you’re all Harry talks about.
“Yes, really! And you can’t take that portkey because— because— it’ll wreck him. You're his whole world.”
“Well. If Potter really wanted me to stay, he could’ve come here himself.”
“I love him, but he’s an oblivious idiot. He’d let you go because it’s noble or something, and you’ll leave because you think it means he doesn’t care when really it all it means is … you’re both idiots! You’re perfect for one another!”
Ron gestures broadly and splashes water on the stewardess.
“Your passport, Mr. Malfoy,” she says. “Are you staying or going?”
“You have to stay! I won’t hear the end of it if you go. Here!”
Ron hands him a fistful of droopy pink tulips Draco’s pretty sure he saw in a vase at the entrance to the Portkey Office. “These are your favorite flowers, right? Pink tulips. Harry said they were your favorite flowers. Oh my god Malfoy, I know so much about you.”
It’s the fact Harry remembered the flowers Draco likes. That he cared enough to tell Ron.
Or not a goner, actually. Draco’s staying right here, with this ridiculous redhead and his even more ridiculous best friend.
for @drarrymicrofic prompt: discord by The Living Tombstone | inspired by a convo in the microfic discord and the lyric "whatever did we do to make you take our world away?" | idea by @calypsotempete | on ao3
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