Draco’s wand is broken and he’s sent to live in the Muggle world for his crimes as a Death Eater
years later, Harry is an auror sent to a Muggle city to investigate a series of crimes
Harry stays at a ritzy hotel where the staff is startlingly familiar- Goyle is a bellhop/porter, Zabini is a concierge, Parkinson is a waitress at the hotel restaurant
as unsettling as it is, it’s not as unsettling as the fact that someone is missing from this group- and that bothers Harry more than it should
finally Malfoy appears, as the pianist who plays piano in the restaurant at dinner
Harry thinks that Malfoy should not be so enrapturing as he plays, but he is
Now, living in a hotel for an extended period of time where a bunch of former Slytherins/ war criminals should be hell for a Gryffindor like Harry, but it’s surprisingly... not?
Parkinson is as funny as she is bitchy, Goyle is kind of sweet when you pay attention to him, Zabini is a source of endless free entertainment, and Malfoy- Malfoy is really something special
He’s guarded, obviously has a lot of trust issues, but he’s not scared of Harry- he’ll talk to him, tell him about the piano pieces he plays (they’re mostly French songs from the mid-1900s, Harry learns), about the church he sometimes plays the organ for, about the music shop across town where he has another job- Harry realizes he wants to be friends with this new Draco Malfoy he’s getting to know
While Malfoy is happy to chat casually with Harry, he’s hesitant to start an actual friendship-- he turns Harry down every time he asks him out to lunch, he refuses to speak about heavier topics (the war, his parents, etc)
Harry catches him off guard when one day he shows up at the music shop where Malfoy works during one of his shifts
Harry insists it was truly coincidental, he was only at the shop to buy a book of blank sheet music to give to Malfoy so he could write his own music
Malfoy is so touched that he gives in to Harry’s attempt at friendship, and within practically no time at all, they’re friends burgeoning on something more
They become a couple (probably w/ some dramatic confessions, heated kisses, and encouragement from Parkinson)
When Harry’s case is closed, he has to go back to Wizarding London,, when he tells Draco, Draco breaks things off with him, saying Harry deserves someone who can be with him in his own world
Harry, devastated, goes back to the Ministry with an agenda- make sure Draco and his friends are allowed back into the Wizarding World
B/c he’s Harry fucking Potter and b/c of some Slytherin ambition which rubbed off on Harry, he succeeds
happy ending where Draco and Harry get back together, Draco opens his own music shop in Dragon Alley, and Harry wakes up in the mornings to his boyfriend playing piano in the living room
PLEASE CONTINUE THAT OLD PANSMIONE AU I LOVED IT OMH 💛💛💛
I’m not sure if this is the one that you meant but here is some more that I wrote for the one where they were in the library:
When Pansy returned to the table, she found that Harry and Draco had left. She sighed exaggeratedly as she started to collect her things, still spread out on the table.
“I do so much for him, honestly, and this is the thanks I get?” Pansy whined. As she grabbed for her textbook, she noticed a note attached to it. Pansy smiled and shook her head fondly when she read: ‘Sorry, Pans. Harry wants to go flying. With me. I don’t want to abandon you, but I know you’ll understand. Keep me in your prayers- I’m deathly afraid I’ll fall off my broom while staring at his biceps or something.’ She stuffed the book into her book bag and only then did she look at the book she’d randomly plucked off the shelf earlier. And well, wasn’t that ironic? The book was How to Tame Lions, presumably an instruction book that would reveal to Pansy how to do just that. Perfect timing, really, considering Pansy was on her way to taming a lion named Hermione Granger. “Or maybe,” Pansy considered as she packed that book into her bag along with the rest of her things, “I shouldn’t tame Granger. I might like her more when she’s wild.” Pansy smirked at this thought and left the library feeling delightfully devious.
After hours upon hours of taking notes on Herbology, Pansy’s devilish spark had greatly diminished, and she was instead feeling rather exhausted. It was nearly eleven at night when she heard a knock on her dorm room door. Pansy groaned, too tired to even think about getting up from where she was sitting at her desk and letting whoever it was inside, so she just called out, “Come in!”
She was only slightly surprised when Draco came into the room. He had apparently just gotten out of the shower, based on the look of his hair, and he frowned when he saw the state Pansy was in. “You okay?” Draco asked, sounding concerned. He sat on the edge of Pansy’s bed and examined his friend’s drowsy appearance.
“I’m fine. But I’m ninety eight percent sure that Professor Sprout is trying to kill me.”
Draco laughed. “I would pay good money to see Sprout chase you with a machete.”
“Machete? I think a ten thousand page textbook would be more accurate.”
“Ah. Well I’d also pay good money to see that.” Draco was smiling, partly because he was amused, but partly because he was still high off the feeling of Harry’s lips pressed to his forehead, just after they’d gotten each other off in the locker room. Pansy, being the perceptive best friend that she is, noticed that Draco was hiding one of the reasons for his smile.
“Alright,” Pansy said. “Time to fess up. What did you do with Potter today?”
Draco blushed and smiled down at his hands in his lap. “Just stuff,” Draco said shyly. When Pansy gave him a ‘that’s it?’ look, Draco elaborated. “We flew for, like, hours on end. It was kind of amazing. Then we took a walk around the lake and talked for a while. We didn’t want to go to the Great Hall for dinner, so we just ate in the kitchens. And then Harry suggested that we go for another fly, so we did, and after that…” Draco’s cheeks turned impossibly more red.
“Did you fuck?” Pansy asked impatiently.
Draco quickly shook his head. “No, we didn’t. But we did other stuff. In the showers in the locker room.”
Pansy raised her eyebrows at Draco. She didn’t seem appalled, just impressed. “Draco, you are the slut of the Slytherin house.”
“No, I’m not!” Draco took a pillow from Pansy’s bed and threw it at her while Pansy cackled. “Seriously, Pans,” Draco said. “It’s not like I’m the first Slytherin to have sex in the locker room.”
“Oh, I know you’re not. But you’re the first to have sex with Harry Potter in the locker room.”
“How is that sluttier than Theo fucking Blaise in the locker room?” Draco crossed his arms and looked at Pansy challengingly, silently daring her to call him a slut again.
“Fine,” Pansy said, her laughs having died down. “I guess you’re right. Theo and Blaise will always be the sluttiest Slytherins.”
“Thank you,” Draco said, appeased. He uncrossed his arms and laid back on Pansy’s bed. As he looked up at the green velvet bed canopy, he thought to himself that the green of Harry’s eyes was much prettier than the green of the bed canopy.
“Stop thinking about Potter,” Pansy told him. She must have seen the dopey smile on his face. Draco winced at the comment, for he didn’t like the fact that his feelings for the other boy were so obvious, even if they were only obvious to Pansy.
“I can’t,” Draco admitted, and though he couldn’t see Pansy, he could almost feel her roll her eyes.
“Don’t go Hufflepuff on me now, Malfoy. Not after all this time.”
Draco smiled. “I won’t. It’s just that I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. He makes me feel- I don’t know how to put it- balanced, I guess? Like, I feel so much more confident, so much more complete when I’m with him. Is that normal? Am I supposed to feel like this?”
Pansy sighed. “How would I know? ‘S not like I’ve ever had a stable relationship.”
Draco frowned. “Aw, Pans. You will one day. We just have to find you that one girl, you know?”
Draco hummed and tapped his fingers on his thigh, trying to think of a girl for Pansy. “Is there anyone you like?” Draco asked eventually, realizing he and Pansy hadn’t discussed Pansy’s crushes in a while.
“Um,” Pansy said as her mind involuntarily conjured up the image of Granger in the library earlier in the day. “I don’t know. Maybe, but it might just be sexual attraction, so, you know. Probably not girlfriend material.”
Draco was about to respond to this when Tracey Davis came in through the door. She was the only other Slytherin girl to come back to Hogwarts for eighth year, and thus she was the only one who Pansy shared the dorm with. Tracey wasn’t all that bad of a roommate, but she was kind of a prude (Pansy meant that in the nicest way possible), and at times Pansy and her friends were a little too crass and wild for Tracey’s liking.
“Oh,” Tracey said when she saw that Pansy and Draco were in the room, blushing noticeably when she saw Draco in particular. Oh, there was that, too. Another reason Pansy and Tracey didn’t always get along was because of Tracey’s massive crush on Draco, which had seemingly only developed because Tracey saw Draco as a bad boy, one that she wanted to ‘fix’. No matter how many times Pansy told Tracey that Draco was unwaveringly, outrageously gay, Tracey never gave up her dream of being the one to redeem Draco Malfoy. It made Pansy nauseous, but there wasn’t much she could do to change Tracey’s mind. “I didn’t realize you’d be here this early. It’s Saturday, you’re usually out.”
Pansy shrugged. “Herbology. Sprout’s being a bitch about markings this year.”
Tracey’s eyes widened upon hearing Pansy call Sprout a bitch, but she nodded and headed to her bed without commenting on it.
“What’re you doing here, Draco?” Tracey asked. Her back was turned towards the other two as she was putting away her book bag.
Draco sat up on the bed and looked at Pansy with a surprised expression. Tracey hardly ever drew up the courage to speak to Draco directly. Pansy shrugged and nodded for him to answer her question.
“I’m just having a girls’ night with Pansy. You know how it is, painting nails, talking about boys, and all that.”
Pansy covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing at Draco’s reply. It was sure to provoke Tracey. Draco smirked when he saw Pansy fighting off a laugh. Tracey turned around to face the two of them again, and they both forced their expressions to return to neutral.
“How nice. Has Pansy decided to give men another try?”Pansy snorted outright at that. “Never.”
Tracey frowned. Apparently she’d been hoping for a different answer.
“See, what I really meant was that I was the one who was talking about boys. Pansy was listening and trying not to vomit,” Draco explained.
Pansy nodded. “Indeed. Draco can be rather sickening, you know, when he’s waxing poetic about a crush.”
Tracey’s eyes flew to Draco and she raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were the poetic type, Draco,” Tracey said, sounding surprised. Apparently poetry didn’t fit in with the bad boy archetype that she perceived Draco as.
Draco shook his head vehemently at Tracey’s words. “I’m not. I’m really, really not. I don’t wax poetic, I gush about boys’ eyelashes and Pansy is such an idiot that she just thinks it’s all sonnets.”
Pansy scoffed, offended, and Tracey looked calculating, probably trying to find a response that would endear her Draco.
“If you ever did write something, Draco, I’d read it,” Tracey said with a smile. She fluttered her own eyelashes exaggeratedly at Draco in a desperate attempt to make him notice them.
Draco smiled back at her halfheartedly, then pulled himself off of Pansy’s bed. “I should go now,” he told Pansy. He made his way to her chair, leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, then whispered in her ear, “Promise me you won’t let the crazy girl try to smell my shampoo on your bedspread.”
Pansy laughed. “I promise.”
Once Draco had left, Tracey turned her attention to Pansy.
“I think he’s starting to like me,” Tracey said, pleased, and Pansy rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, he could hardly keep his hands off of you.” Pansy snorted when Tracey’s expression turned outraged.
“I don’t know why I even bother trying with you,” Tracey said. “I’ll be ignoring you for the rest of the night.”
“Good,” Pansy mumbled. Now that she would be blissfully free of Tracey’s whines, she could go back to thinking of Granger.
Pansy found herself thinking of Granger again two days later at lunch. She was at the Slytherin table, with Blaise and Theo being grossly affectionate across from her, and Draco being disgustingly sweet about Harry next to her. She found solace watching Granger from across the Great Hall, until, that is, she got caught.
“Pans, you haven’t even been listening to me,” Draco said accusingly. His words were accompanied by a pinch to Pansy’s arm.
Pansy scowled and momentarily turned her head so she could glare at Draco. “Um, yeah, obviously I’m not listening to you. You’ve been saying all the same stuff for hours. I get it, okay? You and Potter held hands yesterday. Potter lent you his jumper last night. You returned it to him this morning and snogged him. It’s all very nice, Draco, but I can only hear so much before I get depressed about my own love life.”
Draco pouted. “But Pansyyyy,” he said. “I need your advice. Should I ask him to Hogsmeade this weekend?”
“Yes. Do it. If you don’t, I’ll do it for you,” Pansy stated bluntly. “The sooner you two become an official couple, the sooner you’ll be out of my hair.”
“Well,” Blaise butted in. “Not necessarily. Theo and I are official and we still find ourselves in your hair all the time.”
“Just because I’m the only person who tolerates you anymore. I’m sure that Gryffindor is full of tolerant people who Harry and Draco can bother instead of me.”
“Heyyy,” Theo protested. “People like us. Callum likes us, don’t you, Cal?” Theo asked Callum Harper, a seventh year Slytherin who was a little farther down the table, eating a sandwich and nodding along to a story being told to him by another Slytherin in his year. Harper turned his head to look at Theo, Blaise, Pansy, and Draco, and without even pausing in eating his sandwich, he flipped them all off collectively. Theo frowned. “Okay, maybe not.”
“Aw, baby,” Blaise said, patting his boyfriend on the shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t be sad. Harper doesn’t really hate us, he’s still just pissy about Draco dumping him.”
“That was two years ago!” Draco squawked. (He should really work on that. People will start thinking he’s a Fwooper with all the squawking he does.) He took a chip off his plate and threw it at Blaise, who irritatingly caught it in his mouth with ease.
“Poor Harper,” Pansy said, picking up on the fact that Draco was annoyed by this topic of conversation. “He never had a chance with you- you’ve always been too gone on Harry Potter.”
Draco rolled his eyes, but his blush gave him away. “Whatever.”
“Pansy’s right though, you know,” Theo said.
“That Harper never had a chance? Yeah, duh. Besides the fact that Draco’s got an obvious hard-on for the Golden Boy, Harper is an enormous twat,” Blaise said, perhaps a little bit too loudly. Harper looked back at their group again, armed with a death glare, and Blaise waved back at him with a sarcastic smile.
Theo shook his head. “No, I meant Pansy is right that Draco should ask out Potter. He’s been pining for him for ages.”
“Oh, true,” Blaise agreed. “They should just fuck and get it over with so we don’t have to hear about Draco’s pathetic yearning anymore.”
Pansy and Theo nodded in concurrence with Blaise’s statement while Draco stared at them in disbelief.
“Are you serious?” Draco said. “I’m sitting right here.”
“Yeah, but you should be sitting at the Gryffindor table, snuggling up to Potter and telling him how much you’d love to lick his precious abs,” Blaise told him.
“Who says I haven’t already licked his precious abs?” Draco said, giving Blaise a challenging look. While Theo and Blaise raised their eyebrows at Draco, Pansy tugged on his sleeve.
“Wait, Draco,” she said. She was looking over at an empty spot at the Gryffindor table.
“What?”
“They’re gone.”
“Who’s gone?”
“Them. Granger. Granger and Potter, I mean,” Pansy explained, gesturing to where Potter and Granger had been sitting a few moments ago.
“Oh. Where’d he go?”
Both Pansy and Draco started frantically searching the Great Hall with their eyes while Blaise snorted at them. He was the only one who’d noticed Granger and Harry walking right up to where they were sitting at the Slytherin Table. It wasn’t until the two Gryffindors had come to a stand still and Harry cleared his throat that Pansy and Draco realized where they’d gone. Draco’s gaze immediately flew to Harry, and he gave him as subtle of a once-over as possible before making eye contact and smiling nervously. Pansy, however, was not at all subtle in the way that she checked out Granger, making Granger blush and look down at the ground.
“Hi, Draco,” Harry said. The warmth and sweetness in his voice made Pansy want to gag and made Draco feel like he could melt into a puddle.
“Hey, Scarhead,” Draco said, his own voice oozing affection and fondness. Pansy actually fake gagged at that, and Blaise and Theo chuckled while Granger scowled.
“Is this seat taken?” Harry asked, pointing next to Draco.
“Yes,” Draco replied eagerly. “Uh, no. I meant no,” he backtracked. “Um, please sit,” he said finally, ignoring how his friends were laughing at him.
Harry smiled as he took the seat, sitting much closer to Draco than he really had to. Granger looked a bit lost standing on her own, so Pansy waved her over.
“There’s a free seat next to me, Granger,” she beckoned.
Granger seemed reluctant, but she still sat down next to Pansy. She stared down at the table while Pansy stared at her.
“I’m here for emotional support. For Harry,” Granger told Pansy.
Pansy hummed in interest. “Really? I find that hard to believe, since you practically attacked me in the library the other day for even suggesting that there was something genuine between Draco and Harry.”
“Well, I was wrong.”
Pansy gasped. “What? No. I don’t believe it. If Hermione Granger has been wrong about something then my whole life is a lie.”
“Shut up,” Granger said, but there was no bite behind it. “It does happen occasionally.”
Pansy smiled in a satisfied manner. “So you believe me about the poetry now?”
Granger shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. But I still don’t believe you about…” she trailed off.
“About what?”
At last, Granger looked up from the table to make eye contact with Pansy. Pansy was a bit taken aback by the intensity of Granger’s gaze.
“You’re not attracted to me,” Granger said forcefully, as if she was willing it to be the truth.
Pansy’s lips turned up into a sly smile. “Sure I am, darling.”
Granger shook her head. “No, you’re not.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you can’t be. I mean, you’re…” Granger struggled to find a word. “... you,” Granger settled on. “And I’m me. So it just doesn’t make sense.”
“We already established that in the library, Granger. Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“You’re a minx. Not really my type, okay?” Granger said. Pansy furrowed her brow. “But you are into girls, aren’t you?”“Well, I’m not-” Granger looked extremely flustered. “That’s not rele- I mean, okay. Fine. Yes. I like girls, but you’re not a normal girl.”
Pansy tilted her head as she considered this. “Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”“Maybe, but not in your case. In your case, you’re not a normal girl because you’re some sort of girl-demon-snake hybrid.”
“You know, I’ve always heard that girl-demon-snake hybrids are a really good time in bed,” Pansy reasoned.
Despite her best efforts, Granger smiled at that. Pansy wanted to bask in the moment, but Harry ruined it when he stood up and clapped his hands.
“Okay, Hermione, we have to get to Charms. Let’s go,” Harry said.
“Right,” Hermione said. Before she got up, she told Pansy, “I’m serious though, Pansy. You’ve got to knock it off.”
Pansy simply smirked in response.
“What?” Granger asked.
“You called me Pansy, Hermione,” Pansy said delightedly.
Granger’s face flushed and she quickly left the table before Pansy could tease her about it more.
Pansy was still quite pleased when she turned back to her friends, and it seemed Draco was too, as his head was on the table and he was smiling dreamily, the way someone only looks if they’re in love or high off of Liquid Luck.
“Blimey, Pans, you missed it,” Blaise said. “Potter beat Draco to it and asked him to Hogsmeade this weekend.”
“I know,” Draco said, and yep, he was definitely in love. Not even people on Liquid Luck sound that happy. “And he kissed me goodbye. Like a proper boyfriend. I’m suffocating on my happiness right now. It’s fine, though, leave me to die. I’ve accomplished everything I’ve wanted to in life.”
“Don’t say that. You still haven’t actually gone on the date with him, you half wit,” Pansy reminded him.
“Oh, right. Leave me to die on Saturday then.”
Pansy was rolling her eyes at Draco when Theo suddenly asked, “So what was all that with Granger, Pansy?”
“That was nothing. Just a bit of banter.”
“Banter? Is banter usually chock-full of sexual tension?” Blaise said, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, actually, it is. But don’t you worry your pretty little mind about that. I’ll have it all resolved by the time Draco’s dead from his love for Potter.”
This is the first time I've read a story of yours, and I was wondering if Play 1950 is a standalone or if it's part of a series. The story was beautiful, btw, and I hope to read more! 💖 You're talented!
thanks ! I’m posting Play 1950 in installations on Tumblr, but the whole thing together is at https://archiveofourown.org/works/16542023
“Fuck, you look amazing in uniform.” The thought pops into Draco’s mind, as if Harry were speaking directly into his head. It’s unexpected, and he has to make an effort to keep his expression blank.
Kingsley Shacklebolt looks at him from the end of the table, expectant. Draco grits his teeth.
“Pardon me, Minister, could you please repeat what you just said? I didn’t hear you.”
“Of course. We need a team of Unspeakables to assist Potter’s Aurors in-”
“I love seeing you in meetings. You’re so hot in your robes,” Harry thinks into Draco’s head, and it comes with intention, with a hot wave of fondness and desire that warms Draco’s insides.
“You’re not supposed to use the bond this way, idiot.”
“What did I get married for, if not to tell my husband how attractive he is whenever I please?”
“What do you think, Malfoy?” Shacklebolt asks. Draco smiles, strained, nods.
“I agree. What’s the-“
“Merlin, your accent goes all posh when you’re mortified. It’s hot.”
“What’s the plan?” He finishes, glaring at Harry over the Minister’s head as the man launches into a detailed explanation.
“You make the same face a few seconds before you come, glazed and unfocused.”
Draco tries not to blush. “How do you want me to focus if you won’t shut up?”
“What’s the point? We know the Aurors will go and the Unspeakables will finish the job.”
“I’m glad you recognize your department’s mediocrity.”
“Ouch.”
“Serves you well.”
“Minister,” Harry says, loudly. “Say, how long are the Aurors supposed to contain the situation? We can’t count on the Unspeakables to protect the subjects.”
“You’re right, of course.”
“Mediocre?” Harry asks into his head.
Draco narrows his eyes. “Minister, my people are perfectly capable of containing the situation with efficiency and discretion. I’m not sure we can say the same about the Aurors.”
“That’s certainly true as well.”
“Checkmate,” Draco thinks. Harry grins at him.
“What’s important to stress in this situation, though, is that I need both forces to work together in-“
“Did I lose or did we tie?”
“Neither. Not a competition. Shut up.”
“I love it when you get like that.”
“Shut it.”
“Makes me want to snog the fuck out of you.”
“My suggestion is,” the Minister says, “that we announce the Aurors will be handling this situation. The enemy will drop their guard enough for us to infiltrate an Unspeakable.”
“Did you have someone specific in mind?” Draco asks.
“Yes. Rose Zeller is perfect for the task because-“
“Oh, I can see the hickey I left last night.”
“No, you can’t. I healed it.”
“It’s a bit yellow. To be fair, it would have taken a lot to heal. The sounds you made when I was doing it-“
The ondulating warmth of Harry’s intentions fills him up. It takes everything in him not to react.
“As soon as we get home, I’m going to put it there again.”
“You know I’m going to heal it.”
“It’s for us to see. Everyone already knows I’m yours and you’re mine”
Draco thumbs his ring, the metal band on the fourth finger of his left hand. “Yes.”
“So I’ll put it back, and I’ll get you out of those robes.”
“Rose has a low enough profile,” Kingsley continues. “That will allow us to-“
“I’ll touch your chest. I’ll kiss your neck.”
“I believe she can get to the boss and-“
“I like those trousers. I’ll be careful, when I take them off.”
“Once we are inside, an Auror-“
“I can almost taste you already. I can see you, with your eyes closed when I get on my knees for you.”
“Harry, please-“
“Hopefully, that will give us enough time to-“
“You like me there, don’t you? You can touch my hair, and I will suck you off.”
“If this doesn’t work, we will-“
“And I’ll stay still, too, if you want me to. You can fuck my mouth, you can-“
“Shut up,” Draco snaps. The room goes completely silent, and he notices, with horror, that the Minister and the Department Heads are staring at him. “Did I say that out loud?
okay but like think about if drarry was a thing before the golden trio kiddos went hunting horcruxes and draco went with them– yes i know this has been talked about before– and the snatchers still brought them to malfoy manor. firstly, without draco’s gay ass there to identify him, nobody can be sure it’s actually harry.
secondly… lucius and narcissa immediately recognizing their son, even if hermione put a stinging jinx on him or not. they know it’s draco, and narcissa can’t bite back her sobs, and lucius is staring at him like he’s never seen him before– everyone in the room can tell this isn’t because lucius is pretending not to recognize draco to protect him. no, he honestly never suspected his son would switch sides, honestly never recognized the good in him.
and when lucius says ‘draco’ in that warning tone that he knows so well, and draco growls ‘go to hell,’ narcissa loses all hope of not crying. she’s been crying since they got here, since she recognized her son, but there’s no hope of stopping now. not for a long time.
she expects them to kill her son soon, she’s prepared to beg for them to kill her first, but what she doesn’t expect? she doesn’t expect her own sister to point her wand at her nephew and scream ‘crucio!’
narcissa screams.
draco screams.
hermione screams, begging bellatrix to stop, because even if she hated draco from eleven to sixteen, he’s her friend now, and she can’t stand to watch her friend going through this pain.
ron’s struggling even more now, because even if he wont say it out loud, he’s friends with the ferret.
and harry?
harry fucking roars.
the chandelier bursts into a million pieces, the windows shatter, and every single one of the death eaters is fuckin THROWN against the wall.narcissa, ron, hermione, draco and harry are the only ones standing, completely unharmed by the flying glass. ron, hermione and narcissa are all staring at harry in AWE and draco’s on the floor, gasping harry’s name over and over again.
and then narcissa is rushing to her son, kneeling next to him, trying to get him to sit up, calling house elves to get him soup and water and trying to pick him up so he can get to bed.
but harry takes draco into his own arms, and says ‘i don’t know how long they’ll be asleep, and we can’t risk them calling voldemort here.’ narcissa’s staring at him in disbelief, and hermione takes over. ‘mrs. malfoy, we’ll take containers of soup and water for him, and i promise he’ll get the rest he needs, but harry’s right, we need to go.’
it takes a couple of minutes, but narcissa agrees, and harry tells her to go to the wall and pretend she was knocked out too. she tells them about luna being in the dungeon, because she’s been against imprisoning a child from the beginning and if there’s a chance they can get luna out, she’s taking it. narcissa casts a glamour over herself to make it look like the glass hit her, and goes to slump next to her husband. the kiddos get all the soup and such, and hurry down to get luna and the others out of the dungeon, before apparating to the beach house.
and then harry spends days attending to draco’s every need, even though draco repeatedly insists he’s fine, and it isn’t necessary, because harry’s Very Gay For This Boy And He Has To Make Sure He’s Okay It’s Very Important.
“What is that?” Draco asked incredulously, staring at Harry’s naked chest.
Harry immediately blushed, scolding himself for being so careless as to run around half naked with this…thing. Because right there, on his chest, right over his heart were numbers etched onto his skin in black ink.
“What is what?” he finally asked, going for denial, pulling a new shirt over his head and tried walking out of their bedroom.
Draco scrambled out of bed and his hand shot out to grab Harry’s wrist to keep him from leaving. Harry turned back around reluctantly.
“Potter,” Draco ground out through his teeth, “what is that? Tell me you didn’t get a…”
“It’s a tattoo,” Harry said sighing.
“It was a mistake, I went to the Three Broomsticks with the lads and…well.”
Draco blinked at him unbelieving.
“You got so drunk you got a bloody tattoo?”
Harry shrugged.
“I can have it removed,” he murmured and looked into Draco’s eyes, trying to read him.
Harry didn’t think he’d ever felt this vulnerable. Or this weak. Even though he’d been together with Draco for almost two years now, neither of them had ever felt the need to say the three words that Harry now felt he was wearing on his chest in plain sight. He didn’t know if he was ready for Draco to find out. He didn’t know if Draco was ready…
Draco’s eyes were fixed on the numbers.
“What’s it mean, anyway?” he asked and read aloud:
“51.5309.0.1233 – please tell me it’s not some guy’s phone number.“
Harry shook his head.
“It’s not some guys phone number,” he muttered, quite unable to meet Draco’s eyes.
They were standing in silence for a few seconds before Draco groaned.
“Great, don’t tell me, whatever. I’ve just been with your sorry arse for two years and living with you for one, what do I care what random numbers you decide you need to have on your chest forever,” he spat and Harry recognised all the signs for an oncoming Draco Malfoy tantrum.
He sighed.
“They’re coordinates.”
Draco had been about to say something else, but stilled and stared at the numbers again.
“Coordinates to what?”
He let his hand caress the still sore tattoo and Harry thought that his heart was about to explode – with love or terror he couldn’t say.
“King’s Cross station.”
Draco looked up from the ink then and straight into his eyes, puzzled.
“What the fuck for?”
Harry thought that his heart seemed to be beating faster and faster by the second when he said:
“It’s where I first boarded the Hogwarts Express,” he placed his own hand over Draco’s to keep it in place right over the ink, right over his heart.
“It’s where I first found a place I felt like I belonged,” he inhaled deeply, “most importantly, however, it’s the place I fell in love with you at the first of September 1999.”
The silence in the room was deafening.
Harry forced himself to keep his eyes on his boyfriend, whose breaths now seemed to be coming in hard and shaky puffs.
Neither of them said a single word for what seemed like ages and then Draco looked up.
“You got that for me?”
Harry nodded, trying not to crumble to the floor.
“Because you…” Draco prompted and searched Harry’s face.
Harry huffed.
“I just told you why.”
“I’d like you to tell me again.”
Harry took a deep breath and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“Because I love you.”
There. The three words they had managed without so far were finally out. Harry felt light headed. He felt scared and happy and nervous and giddy all at the same time.
And then, the negative feelings fell away completely when he saw the grin that spread over Draco’s face.
“I love you, too,” he said enthusiastically.
They stared at each other as if they couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
“So,” Harry asked finally, “do you want me to have it removed?”
Draco laughed loudly and let his arms slide around Harry’s waist to keep him in place.
“No, idiot,” he smiled softly, “I want to look at it forever.”
It was Harry’s turn to smile until Draco leaned forward and kissed that smile right off his face.
The kiss was somehow different to all the kisses they had shared between them so far and Harry didn’t quite know why. Maybe it was the fact that he tried to pour all of his feelings into that one touch of lips on lips or maybe it was Draco who kissed him like his life depended on it.
Either way, Harry thought that he should have said what was in his heart much, much earlier.
So what if Harry’d ended up becoming a prefect. And they have the prefects bathroom. And he’s *never* in his life been allowed a bath. The Dursleys made it very clear his showers were to be two minutes and then they’d be turning the water cold to get him out.
So when he sees the bathroom, with the *swimming pool* of a bath and all the taps and all the soaps and just … everything, he kind of falls in love with it a bit.
So he takes a bath and it’s glorious. And he comes back the next day, and the next. Late at night so he can take his time and float and relax, and no one else is around, which is perfect because he still feels kind of weird about bathing with someone … Like are you supposed to wear swimmers or not …
And then one night he comes in, invisibility cloak on, as always … And there’s already someone in the bath. He freezes as he sees the pale expanse of skin, platinum blonde hair, the slim yet muscled form.
It’s Malfoy, standing in water up to his waist and fiddling with the taps. After a moment, lemon shaped bubbles pour from the spouts and the light scent of citrus fills the room.
Harry knows he should leave … but he can’t quite bring himself to move. He watches as Malfoy moves to the edge of the bath, skin gleaming wetly in the torch light. He sits back in one of the marble alcoves, the water gliding up his chest, and he spreads his arms across the edge of the bath, leaning his head back and closing his eyes with a sigh.
And still Harry stands, frozen. He can’t quite believe he’s standing there, in the bathroom in nothing more than sweatpants and an invisibility cloak, staring at a very clearly naked Draco Malfoy in the bath … He steps backwards, cursing under his breath as he steps on the edge of the cloak and stumbles slightly.
Then he freezes, staring at the bath with wide eyes.
Malfoy doesn’t open his eyes and his voice is low when he says, with just the hint of a smirk, ‘In or out, Potter. Don’t just stand there all night watching.’
This is my submission for the first round of the HP World Cup Mini Fest!
I don’t think I’ll manage to make more than one round, so I decided to use all the prompts of the first round to make up for it :DDD
This is Harry and Draco, who got temporarily kicked off of their house team for fighting each other one too many times last semester, and somehow decided to dress-up in as mascots to cheer on their respective teams for the new semester’s first practice match. Gryffindor wins against Slytherin and Draco being the sore loser that he is, goes off to sulk under the bleachers. Harry follows him, as usual, and finds his hiding spot. Draco tells him to leave, but Harry is in a teasing mood, with his team’s victory and all that. He sits down next to Draco. At that moment, it starts to POUR, and suddenly, the underside of the bleachers seems just that much more cozy, away from the storm. Harry feels bold, Harry is not completely oblivious for once in his life and realizes what all this fighting and tension between them has been about.
—————
This is my first fest entry ever in the whole life! Hope it fits the theme and that I didn’t try too hard T_____T ok I’m late for work, no time to proof-read or fuss.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot because it’s pride month (20gayteen baby) and like.
Imagine Harry and Draco holding hands, walking down the street in muggle London when some homophobe shouts at them calling them all kinds of mean names and Harry just kinda ignores it and keeps walking, He grew up in a muggle neighborhood and he went to a muggle school, he’s heard it all before but Draco! He grew up in the wizarding world where no one gives a fuck about ur sexuality because everyone’s at least little a gay, hell, even his father is a little gay, so homophobia is new to him and he just flips out, his face immediately turns bright red with anger and he turns to the guy and Harry’s like, ‘oh fuck Draco don’t’ and gets ready to obliviate some muggles because Draco’s about to curse the shit out of this guy but instead Draco just fucking punches the guy right in the face, he spits out a quick, ‘fuck you’ and turns back to Harry, ‘please take me to st.mungos’ because he broke his hand on that douchebags face.
Of course, Harry kisses him better back at their flat and commends him on his Griffindor like bravery at which point Draco shoves him off their bed, both of them laughing as he falls.
“He grew up in the wizarding world where no one gives a fuck about ur sexuality because everyone’s at least little a gay, hell, even his father is a little gay.”
You just made my day, OP.
Draco "Potter." Malfoy @saintdracopotter - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
