1.4k (gasp) for dear anon, AU full of - family, friends to lovers, and of course pining
It was cute when they were in school, the whole rivalry thing. Draco’s “I got an E in potions” versus Harry’s “my mum sends the best parcels”, Draco’s “Padfoot let me ride his bike” to Harry’s “I’m still faster on a broom”. It was fine. Fun, even, rolling around the Gryffindor common room, teasing and screaming and laughing, endless nights of sneaking around and annoying the shit out of everyone.
(Draco told him once, hiding underneath a desk in an abandoned classroom, waiting for Filch to leave the library. How his Father always said he’s meant to be in Slytherin. Father, with that look in his eyes, detesting and sneering and a little hungry. But then he got Moony and Padfoot, and can you imagine the look on Pads’s face if he got sorted there? Mental. Besides, who would want to anyway. It was better to be here with Harry, making sure his stupidity didn’t get him killed.)
It was still a little cute after graduation, when Harry came to stay with them for three months. Draco’s “I know the best restaurants” to Harry’s “I made your favourite pasta”, Harry’s “early registration” to Draco’s “already have a job”. Moony and Padfoot let them do whatever, almost, treated them like adults, in a way Harry’s parents never really would. Although Sirius got so angry one morning, when Draco came back from a night shift he wasn’t meant to do. He hasn’t told anyone about it, and Pads was worried about him, wanker. Draco had tears in his eyes when he shouted back, about back off and shut up and this isn’t even, a lot of “you don’t understand”s that Remus actually laughed at.
(Harry never had shouting matches like that with his parents. His mum would usually storm off to cool down, and his dad never raised his voice. But Draco and Padfoot made up before breakfast was finished, frowning around their toast and glaring at Moony, who was still laughing, and it was okay. Then at the end of summer when Draco handed them the envelope with all the money he’s saved—“I just wanted—to give you something back—” Harry was glad he’d be leaving soon, because it was terrifying, watching Remus and Sirius cry so fucking much).
It was less fun during Uni, because Draco never went, and Harry had no one to compete with. Draco got a better job than his crappy summer one, and Moony got him his own bike, which was really unfair. Harry’s shitty old car used to be his gran’s and it didn’t go thirteen miles without falling apart. Whatever. They met every break, sometimes during the semester too. Often as they could travel. But it wasn’t the same, because their lives were so different now. “Submitted my essay on the very last minute” didn’t really compare with “getting an actual office here!”. And Draco looked so grown up in his black jacket and that annoying new eyeliner-habit, so good and—far away, and it hurt, a bit. To not be a part of it all. Of his life.
(He went to see Father, he said, a rare three AM phone call the night before Harry’s organic chem exam. In prison. He went to visit him, mostly because—well, he didn’t really know why. And it was awful. Which Harry was a little happy about, because he always hated the man, and it was easier, he imagined, not to be so torn up. But Draco sounded so sad. Heart-breakingly so. There were lots of pauses on the phone, like Draco was smoking fifteen cigarettes one after the other. “Anyway,” he said in the end, sighed again. “Don’t tell Pads or Moony. They’ll break that man’s face, and I can’t have my real dads in prison, right?”)
It got infinitely better when Harry moved to the city in work placement. Draco got his own flat—a horrible, dingy little place he was endlessly proud of, and Sirius and Remus came by every weekend. Harry loved it and hated it and decided he was moving in too, to which Draco laughed and said, I already have a room for you. Supposing he won that round.
(it was messy, and gross, and wonderful. They found the best-worst pubs in the neighbourhood and became friends with the old queer couple the floor above. A lot of things became—clearer, and more confusing, and his mum almost got a stroke when she came to visit the first time, and dad and Sirius warded the entire place like it was a national security issue. It was amazing, and Harry was a little bit in love. Oops.)
It got worse again, because being in love (oops) meant Harry lost every single argument, seeing as he couldn’t think straight anymore. He forgot to tell Draco about his big findings because the bastard wore the tightest trousers. Draco’s ‘hilarious’ stories about his ‘hilarious’ ‘’handsome’’ (!) colleague made Harry green with nausea, which meant he couldn’t form any good rebuttals with his co-researchers. It was a disaster, and Harry hated losing, and losing to Draco all the more—then Draco got that promotion offer in Italy, and—it was getting worse and worse by the minute, because he was actually thinking of going—
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