May 29, 2020
even in their fourties, they’ll still hold each other like they did twenty years ago
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Iceland
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Denmark
seen from Hungary
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Hungary
seen from Hungary
seen from Hungary
seen from Canada
seen from Russia
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
even in their fourties, they’ll still hold each other like they did twenty years ago
(I’M SORRY I fucked up something and Tumblr made a mess, but here we are!)
NONNIE WHAT DID YOU DO
This is absolute perfection and I’m crying!!! Everything, their love, care, quidditch, their first date!!! It was so them, teasing and playing around and OMG I’M SO SOFT RN okay I’m feeling all the things 😭😭😭💙❤💙❤
My heart is so full! They GET MARRIED and they are so sweet, I don’t know how to thank you. I really needed this in my life, in this moment which is so hard for me. It brightened my day and made it start better. THANK YOU, I hope you’re having the time of yourl ife and I wish you all the happiness the world can give you. ❤❤❤😍🌱🌞
Draco, Harry, & Kissing in the Rain
TW: brief mentions of abuse and anxiety, but it’s all fluffy in the end, I promise. <3
Harry ducked sideways, narrowly missing the TV remote that was hurled angrily toward his face.
“Draco, what the fuck!? Calm down!”
The blonde was visibly shaking across from him. “Don’t tell me to calm the fuck down! I have every right to be upset!” Another object from the living room table was pelted in his direction. For the second time that day, Harry hastily lunged downward.
“Can’t we talk about this? Like goddamned adults?” He spat, stupid as ever, almost begging obliviously to push every last one of Malfoy’s buttons.
“Talk about what? About how you’d rather be with Ginny goddamned Weasley? Or Cho Chang? Or any of the other fan girls that send you owls at every fucking hour of the day?”
“It was ONE letter! From a FRIEND!” Harry stomped a foot forward, refusing in all of his stubbornness to back down. Regardless of the consequences.
This was how their arguments would unfold: Harry’s genuine obliviousness to any underlying issue would result in his own defiance to anything Draco had to say.
And Draco Malfoy’s uncanny ability to run on nothing but emotion would drag Harry to his wit’s end, all but pulling his own hair out. There was no logic here. No, the methodical reasoning of Hermione Granger was long gone in this room.
Draco was angry. And when he was mad, he was like fire.
“Did it ever cross your mind that maybe I want friends, Harry? That maybe I would like to receive suspicious letters from someone else in the middle of the night?”
His tone was heavy with the escalation of their argument.
“It was at 2 o’,clock in the afternoon, Draco! That hardly means we’re sleeping together.” Harry’s palm was thrust forward in a frustrated animation of his rebuttal.
“I wouldn’t put it past her. You are the Savior of the Wizarding world. I’m sure she’d love to get into your pants.”
“You’re being fucking ridiculous. And petty. And-“ he ducked once more- “quit throwing things at me!”
Harry was noble, but Draco wasn’t above deceit. And when he was hurt, the untamed Dragon all but broke loose. The worst part was, he couldn’t control it. It was a beast, a ball of anxiety and insecurity wrapped up into one strong defense mechanism at the center of his chest.
And it ruled everything.
He loved Harry. He loved every ounce of that raven haired twat. He loved the way he swirled his tea with a Muggle spoon instead of his wand. The way he drooled on the side of his pillow after a long day’s work. The way his lips pulled upward at the edges when he’d tell one of those ridiculously unfunny made up jokes of his...
He would never be good enough. Harry deserved so much more than he could ever be. An ex-Death Eater, narrowly escaping Azkaban thanks to testimony from the Savior himself. A selfish whirlwind of emotion that refused to keep itself in check.
He deserved someone like Ginny, whose level-headed continuity was an unending source. She wouldn’t yell like this, or throw bratty temper tantrums when she felt threatened. No, she’d take him by the hands, and pull him close...
He’d enjoy it. The mundane reality that was settling down with a witch. They’d have a bunch of red-headed spawns, and they’d have play dates with their cousins...
Draco was an empty seed. A dud. A dead end. Dry and unyielding. A... a failure.
Draco cocked his head wordlessly, tears surfacing at that thought. He was no better than his father. No better than the scum of the earth.
“Now, can you quit being fucking crazy and talk to me?” Harry asked. His voice was calm, and that was the worst part. How chill he could be, when Draco was drowning for reasons he didn’t even quite understand himself.
“Crazy? That’s it. Don’t fucking talk to me. I’m done.” The words were venom, straight from the reptile’s mouth. The beast was awake and in full action. With that, Draco turned on one foot and stomped out of the door.
Harry remained fixed to the floor, unable to follow.
***
It was raining. Of course it was fucking raining when he’d decided to walk out in a poor attempt at making a statement.
That was what he got, after all. Isn’t this what he deserved? For lacking the ability to keep the monster in check?
He didn’t even try to avoid it; instead, he sat down as the rain began to pound harder. It drenched his hair, his shirt, Even his shoes and socks. He was miserable.
He shivered, refusing to go back inside. He didn’t want to speak to Harry- it was easier this way. It was better to build a wall- to feed the monster- than it was to walk back inside.
Goddamnit, why? Why couldn’t he lay down his pride, stand up, stomp through the front door and tell him that he fucking loved him?
Because, what good would it do? Harry would probably just call him crazy again.
And, suddenly, as a bolt of lighting lit up the sky... Draco was crying. There was thunder, and wind, and he was soaked to the bone... and he sobbed. Because he wasn’t good enough. Because Harry deserved better. Because this time, what if he really had ended it all?
Harry would leave. They all leave eventually. His father left. His mother refused to protect him from the man that abused him most.
And now, he could barely pull himself together.
And that wasn’t Harry’s fault, but it also wasn’t something Draco could change. It was a never ending cycle, and, just as the rain fell from the sky, he would battle his own self destruction.
But what if there was something to break the cycle?
What if there was a sword that he could use to slay the dragon? Once and for all?
A dozen cars must’ve passed by at this point, and Draco pondered how every one of them was probably wondering what kind of idiot would sit outside during a thunderstorm. He sighed at his own relentless ability to put himself down before gazing up at the sky. He was alone, but hardly lonely. Every rain drop was here to keep him company.
This was what he deserved.
“Draco?”
The voice snapped him from his reverie, a stark contrast to the sound of the pouring rain.
And there was Harry, standing, quickly becoming as much of a soppy mess as he was.
Draco was lost for words, caught in confusion. Why had he followed him? Hadn’t he done a fine job of pushing him away?
“I’m sorry I called you crazy. You’re not crazy!” He yelled over the pounding thunder, pressing forward with another step.
Draco wasn’t sure if his tears were visible, or obvious at all, but something in him didn’t care. He was done with feeling pathetic. He needed a win. An out. An answer.
“You really would be better off with Ginny Weasley!” He called, the wind whipping his hair, and it was a miracle that he didn’t choke on the words as they escaped his mouth.
“No I fucking wouldn’t! Jesus, Draco.” He took another step forward, closing the distance between them. “You’re fucking beautiful, and amazing. And the only thing I want for the rest of my days. You think I want that life? The suburban, family dream? Ha!” He paused with a sarcastic laugh. “I want to fight with you, Draco. I want to yell and scream and dodge TV remotes with you. I want to spend the rest of my life convincing you that you are good enough, if that’s what it takes. Although you ARE way out of my league, Draco.”
“You’re kidding, right?” He laughed dryly. “You saved the fucking world, Harry. You saved me. And all I was was a coward. I didn’t do the right thing. I don’t deserve you.”
“You did what you had to do to save yourself from your father. And I don’t blame you for that for one second.” Harry’s eyes were genuine and full of a vivid green honesty that he could not refute.
“You are my world, Draco. Even when you’re trapped and lash out. Even when you think I’m your father, and you start to panic. Even when you convince yourself that I’m cheating on you, though I’d die before that happened.” He took Draco’s hands, clasping them as the rain poured down.
“I will never give up fighting, Draco. With you or for you. I’m done with the petty little arguments. This is it. We’re in this, together. For the long haul. Are you with me?”
The dragon loosened its grip. Draco felt his stomach soften.
All he could manage was a nod, insufficient as it seemed.
“We’re going to fail, Draco. We’re going to make mistakes. This won’t be our last dispute.” He gazed down at their hands, then into eyes that were as silver as the clouds pouring down above them.
“But I don’t want anyone but you. Not now, not ever. I don’t want rational. I want insane. I want to stand out here screaming at you in the goddamned rain. I want-“
But he was cut short by Draco fervently pressing his lips onto his. There they were, in the middle of what might as well have been a hurricane. And instead of running, seeking refuge in the nearest shelter... they danced in the rain.
Draco was fire, whipping and breathing with a passion so bright it could’ve been fury. But it wasn’t. It was burning hot red against the beast, lighting and catching until it was consumed by flames. Releasing the toxicity that seeped from every dark corner of its being. It growled, and scratched, and fought for redemption, but all that was left was Harry.
The taste of his lips, warm against his mouth. The striking contrast against the chilling rain. The freedom that came with each movement of their tongues as they danced.
The Dragon was silenced. And it was no more.
And in its place was something more whole. A tingling sensation, a fluttering of wings against his belly. It was beating, and flying free. It was a promise, full and complete and blocking out any and all insecurity. It was freedom; liberation. It was love.
And it almost saved him. But in the end, as he tugged Harry into an embrace, he vowed to save himself. To finish the job.
For himself, because he deserved better than his father. For Harry, because he promised to love him regardless. For the rain, pouring continuously around them and washing everything clean.
And, perhaps most importantly, for the feeling that was evading all darkness within him.
For love.
Some Sleepy Drarry Headcanons
These are just some personal HC’s of mine that I thought I would share. Feel free to add more!
Draco fucking hates being cold
Good thing he has a very warm boyfriend to cuddle up to
And Draco takes cuddling to the next level
I’m talking full eagle spread over the whole bed with Harry wedged in somewhere
When they first started dating this surprised Harry
Who would have thought that the Slytherin Ice Prince wouldn’t be able to sleep alone
Definitely not Harry
Not that he’s complaining
Harry always had trouble sleeping before he and Draco got together
But now whenever he has a nightmare all he needs to do is look over at his boyfriend and he falls right back to sleep
Draco would never admit it out loud, but waking up next to Harry is the best part of his day
Harry admits this out loud constantly
Draco teases him and calls him a sap
But he secretly loves it
Of course Harry knows he loves it. Why else would he say it every morning?
Burned
I managed to burn myself while cooking (I was making muffins), and since I did that last week too (I’m really clumsy and I do not pay attention enough to myself in these situations, I know), well, I wrote a thing. It went p far away from the burn but yeah.
"Son of a-! Bloody hell!"
Draco bit his tongue, praying his shout-whisper hadn't been loud enough to be heard throughout the house. He quickly resumed putting the muffins in the oven, closing it and setting the alarm before looking at his hand. The burn wasn't too bad. Sure, it stinged, but it should be okay. He had worse. He sighed and focused back on the tasks at hands: after the muffins, he had to make cookies. But as he started mixing the ingredients, a very sleepy-looking Harry stood in the doorway.
"Are you okay, babe?"
Draco froze slightly, making a face. He should've known the dark haired man would awaken at the smallest sound.
"Yes, love., Draco sighed softly, I burned myself while cooking, is all. Didn't mean to wake you."
And then Harry was hugging the blond from behind, his head on Draco's shoulder, and kissed his husband on the cheek softly.
Sleep
Harry wakes up while it is still dark outside. He cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of the electric clock on the table adjacent to the bed. 2:26 A.M.
He glances down at his lover, who is still resting on Harry’s chest, like he had been when they first went to bed. The duvet rests on the both of them, and Harry realizes why he had woken up.
Draco had gotten cold, like he usually does in the middle of the night, and he, in his sleep, had pulled the duvet over himself and Harry, who had woken up hot and sweaty.
Despite being rather uncomfortable, Harry doesn’t dare move the covers back off of him. He’s just going to have to live with it, because his soon-to-be husband is finally getting some sleep, and Harry knows that he sure as hell needs it.
After the war, Draco had nightmares every night, sometimes multiple times, and the only things that could help him sleep at night was sleeping draught and Harry.
Neither of the boys knew Harry could help Draco sleep until much later, so Draco had, overtime, developed an addiction to the sleeping draught.
When Harry and Draco roomed in their eighth year, Harry had been thrown awake by Draco’s screams one night. Draco had run out of sleeping draught, and had tried to sleep without it.
Harry pulled Draco’s bed curtain back and sat next to Draco. Harry let him squeeze his hand as hard as he needed to, and softly rubbed Draco’s back in a soft, circular motion.
When Draco’s breathing had regulated, Harry pulled his arms around Draco and laid down next to him. Draco didn’t let Harry go until he had fallen asleep, and even when he did, Harry didn’t let Draco go until the sun had risen.
That was the first night, after the war, that Draco’s sleep hadn’t been invaded with terrors from the war, so he and Harry slept with each other every night ever since.
The morning after, Harry asked Draco if that was the first time that he’d had such severe nightmares, and Draco avoided making eye contact with Harry, sighed, and muttered “no”. To which Harry pulled him into a hug, cradling Draco’s head on his shoulder. Harry knew about the sleeping draught, but he had just realized that the reason he’d never heard Draco scream out late at night before, was because he was passed out cold, an effect from taking too much sleeping potion. Harry knew from that moment on, that he couldn’t leave Draco’s side for anything.
He was going to help Draco get sleep every night, even if he had to fly from space just to get to him.
It wasn't like Draco didn’t help Harry, either. There were some nights that Harry himself had nightmares so bad that he woke up screaming. And there were some nights when Harry simply felt all the loss from the war all at once. There were some nights when Harry couldn’t think of all the people he had saved, just the ones he’d failed to.
When this happened, Draco would take Harry’s hand in his, and squeeze lightly, then pull Harry’s head on his own shoulder, and perform the same, circular motion on Harry’s back, that Harry commonly performed on Draco’s, and remind Harry that none of what happened during the war was his fault.
Their symbiotic relationship worked so well that nobody, but Draco, was surprised when Harry had gotten down on one knee, and pulled a small, black, velvet box from his robe pocket.
Harry smiles at the thought of Draco sleeping, and lightly pulls Draco into a tighter embrace. Harry gently kissed Draco’s temple, careful not to wake him up.
“Did I wake you?” Draco purrs, sluggish from sleep.
Harry’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry, Draco, I didn't mean to wake you-”
“Shh,” Draco’s words cut off Harry’s. “You didn’t wake me up, I was already awake. Did I wake you when I pulled the covers over us?” He mumbles, not bothering to open his eyes.
“No,” Harry lies.
Seeing through the lie, Draco kicks the duvet off of them.
Harry pulls it back and turns his body so that he faces Draco. “I’m fine, Draco, really.”
Draco smiles softly, and places a thoughtless kiss on the tip of Harry’s nose, then quickly falls asleep, with Harry right behind him, finding comfort within his lover’s embrace.
Neither of them even had to say it, they both knew that the other loved them.
Battle of Hogwarts Alt. Ending
“And where would you like me to take them?”
“The dungeons will do.”
The other houses erupted into cheers, as Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle and many other Slytherins started filing out of the hall.
“No.” Came a voice. Draco Malfoy stepped out of the crowd of Slytherins, his head held high. He looked determined, and beautiful.
“I beg your pardon Mr. Malfoy?” Asked Professor McGonagall. The hall was deafeningly quiet.
“No,” Draco said, his voice firmer, “We will not leave. Some of us actually want to fight.”
For a tense moment, Draco looked worried that no one would support him, that he’d be thrown into the dungeon anyway and be made a laughing stock.
Harry couldn’t let that happen.
“Let him fight.” He found himself saying.
If possible, the dining hall became even quieter. The faces of Gryffindor's, Hufflepuff's, Ravenclaw’s, and Professor's staring at him, stunned, and slightly confused. None more so than Draco Malfoy himself.
“What are you doing, mate?” Ron whispered.
“No idea.” Harry whispered back before continuing, louder, “If Draco and the Slytherins want to fight with us, who are we to stop them?” Harry looked directly at Draco, “Right, Draco?”
Draco wiped the shock off his face, and stared at Harry warily. He could almost see the gears turning in Draco’s head, deciding whether or not Harry was tricking him.
“Yes,” Draco nodded, “I wish to fight.”
“As do I.” Blaise said, stepping beside Draco.
In the end, about half of the Slytherins stepped forward to fight, the other half continued on their way to the dungeons.
“Now that that’s resolved”,” said Professor McGonagall, “Battle positions!”
----
Draco had been helping Madam Pomfree with the wounded when he heard the screaming.
“Harry Potter is dead!”
Suddenly, Draco couldn’t hear, or see, or feel anything. For one moment, he was blessedly numb. Then the voice came again.
“Harry Potter is dead!”
Dropping the potion he was holding, Draco ran toward the courtyard and almost threw up at the sight before him. Standing before him was Voldemort’s army, his mother and father standing prominently on the front line, but what really nauseated him was Hagrid. Standing off to the side, the poor giant was shackled in chains, and carrying a body.
Harry’s body.
“Now is your time to declare your allegiance to me.” Voldemort said.
Draco knew what was coming before his father even opened his mouth.
“Draco!” Lucius hissed, “Draco, come here!”
Draco looked around nervously. He didn’t want to go to his father, but what would happen if he disobeyed?
“Draco,” his mother said, “Come.”
He was torn. His school or his mother? A building full of kids who loathe him or a family who abuses him? The only thing that may have made him stay at Hogwarts was gone, lying dead in Hagrid’s arms.
Draco began to walk towards his mother, when suddenly, Harry flung himself out of Hagrid’s arms.
“Potter!” Draco shouting, running towards him. Draco wasn’t sure what he was going to do but he did know that he wanted to help Harry, no, he needed to help him.
“Malfoy!” Harry shouted back, “Give me your wand!”
Draco didn’t even hesitate. He pulled his mother’s wand out of his pocket and tossed it to Harry not a moment too soon. Voldemort sent a barrage of curses at them, Harry just managing to shield himself and Draco before they hit.
“Thank you for the wand, Draco.” Harry said.
Draco blushed and looked away, “Now is not the time for a heart to heart, Potter.”
Harry was looking at him strangely, his eyes seemed to be looking straight into Draco’s soul.
“We need to get inside.” Harry said. He then grabbed Draco’s hand and the pair sprinted inside the castle, the doors closing behind them.
“Draco,” Harry said, that same unreadable look in his eyes, “why didn’t you tell them it was me?”
Draco said nothing.
“You knew it was me.”
Draco resolutely looked anywhere other than Harry. He feared that if the other boy saw his face, he would know exactly why Draco didn’t expose him.
“You’re the Chosen One.” Draco said, “I refused to be the one held responsible for your death.”
He heard Harry laugh, “I’ve always liked your wit.” Harry said, “and your hair.” He reached out and ran his hand through Draco’s platinum hair.
Draco’s breath caught in his throat, “H-Harry?” He said, looking down at Harry.
Harry smiled and leaned in, his lips ghosting across Draco’s.
“I think I know the real reason you didn’t tell them.” He whispered across Draco’s lips.
“Oh, sod off!” Draco laughed, sealing their lips together tightly.
Draco kissed Harry like his life depended on it, like he never would again. Knowing the boy he was kissing, never kissing him again was a very real possibility.
‘I’m kissing Harry bloody Potter’ thought Draco, ‘Voldemort could kill me now, and I would have no regrets.’
Voldemort.
Voldemort who is still alive.
Voldemort who Harry has to go defeat.
Draco pulled away abruptly, leaving both boys gasping for air.
“What’d you stop for?” Harry whined, trying to lean back in.
Draco allowed himself one more peck, before pushing Harry away firmly.
“Go be a hero, Chosen One.”
Hey there! I had to study for a test yesterday, it was boring as hell and I got really, REALLY frustrated.
So I took a break and wrote some Drarry for you.
Thank you @drarryismymuse for the great beta and your lovely comments! I wouldn't enjoy this so much without you 😁💜
Have fun!
------
Warnings for: studying, fluff, a drooling Ron and something smutty(ish) against the end of it
Pairings: Drarry, Romione and mentioned Pansy/Ginny
Distractions
By gnarf (I hate studying)
“I quit. I can't and I won't do this anymore! This stuff makes no sense to me!”
“Don't be stupid Harry, just sit down and learn, it's not that hard.”
“Hermione I mean it, I won't do this. It's not even something we'll need after we finish Hogwarts!”
“So tell me, mister, what will you do if you quit school now just because you don't want to learn this? We both know you'll get bored in about a week and then you’ll have to do a shit job, like working in muggle customer service.”
“I could do that. Or, I'll become a stripper; something like that. As long as I don't have to read any more stories about Oscar the Brave who killed two trolls and married five women, or was it the other way around? Who cares! Fuck ‘Mione, we nearly killed a troll in our first year here! Nobody wants to read about things like that!”
Harry had really tried to stay focused on the task, but learning was hard if it was for a boring subject like History of Magic. Hermione had finished her assignment a week ago and now she tried to help him with his but it was a lost cause. It's nowhere near interesting enough to go through all this stress without losing the last bit of what is left of his mind.
To make it even worse, Ron was drooling on his lap at the moment because he (just like Hermione) had finished his assignment ages ago and therefore was using the study time sleeping next to Harry on the couch. Over the last thirty minutes he had slumped deeper and deeper into the couch and his head landed in Harry's lap.
“Don't be dumb Potter, you can't be a stripper. You can't dance; therefore, no one would pay money to see you.”
Harry's head shot around to find Malfoy's smirking face in the entrance of their shared eighth year common room.
“As if you know anything about how I dance, ferret.”
“Well I clearly remember your dancing skills in fourth year, and even if you’ve improved your looks since then, I'm sure you still can't dance,” he said as he sat down on Harry's other side, “Hermione have you finished Ancient Runes? I need some input and was hoping I could borrow your stuff for it.”
“Sure Draco, but first you have to help me with Harry here because I won't let him become a stripper.”
“What a shame, I would love to see that fiasco.”
“No, you would only love to see him half naked. The fiasco is a bonus,” Hermione grinned at him.
The friendship between the two of them that formed in the beginning of their eighth year was something no one had expected, and to make it even worse, the two of them had since then paired together to mock him shamelessly. But Harry had no intention to lose the argument this time, especially when it came to Malfoy. Malfoy, who gets along with his friends, always makes him laugh, and looks rather spectacular if one could say so.
“You just have to tell me if you want to see me naked, love. You know I would always prefer that over studying,” he winked over at the blonde, and saw with great satisfaction a blush creeping to his face.
“You won't use me as an excuse to not do your work, Potter.”
“What a shame… I really hoped you would teach me how to dance if you're so good at it.”
Hermione just rolled her eyes at them before she looked back at Draco, “my stuff for ancient runes is in the top drawer of my desk. Go and fetch it yourself, you're not of any help here.”
“Thank you, Hermione. Have fun studying, Potter.”
Malfoy stood up to make a run for the dormitories and Harry slumped back on the couch with a loud groan, “well if stripping isn't a choice either we'd better try to get this stuff into my brain.”
Hermione huffed, but picked up the book again to ask him useless questions about Oscar the Brave.
-------
Friday came and Harry had finished his assignment on time, thanks to Hermione.
It was night and he was alone in the dorm he shared with Ron. The other two were, without fail, in a dark corner of Hogwarts at the moment and Harry used this time as he always did, by resting on his bed and reading the newest Quidditch weekly without anyone nagging that he should study; until a quiet knock on his door startled him.
Harry pointed his wand at the door, swinging it open to reveal his guest.
Surprised to see Malfoy there he couldn't move for a second. Malfoy wore a crisp, white button down shirt and black trousers that fit like they were spelled on him; his hair was slightly messy and he had a faint blush on his face. Harry, on the other hand, wore ratty old joggers and one of his old shirts that was slightly too small for him, he didn't even have on matching socks at the moment.
“Sorry to disturb you, Potter. But I'm bored and Pansy abandoned me for your ex-girlfriend again. Can I come in?”
“Uhm, yeah sure.”
Malfoy came in and closed the door behind him before he walked over to Harry's bed where he nudged Harry’s feet away to make some space for him to sit down.
“Finished your essay then?” he grinned at Harry.
“Yes, my distraction fled to the dormitories if I remember correctly,” Harry huffed back.
“What a shame. You should have looked for another distraction then, Potter. You can't tell me you couldn't find anyone else to volunteer.”
Watching Malfoy as he sat there not quite looking at him while he talked, Harry had the feeling that they left behind their harmless flirting and that whatever he said was essential to what would happen next with them. Whatever they were now, it was about to change.
Using his whole Gryffindor bravery, Harry took a deep breath and looked at the other man, “what if I don't want another distraction?”
Malfoy's eyes snapped up to look at him with a glint, “then I would call you a fool, Potter.”
“Yes. But I could be your fool as long as you are my distraction, Draco.” Harry couldn't help but to grin a bit at the stunned expression on the blonde’s face.
“You don't mean that.”
The hurt look that was now on Malfoy's face was all it took for Harry to sit up and reach for his hand with shaking fingers. Something he wanted to do for ages but never dared to.
“I meant what I said. Why shouldn't I?”
“Because you are you, and I am I, Potter. It doesn't make any sense, you could do better,” he said as he entwined their fingers carefully.
Harry leaned over to Malfoy, brushing his lips against the soft ones of the other man and whispered, “I don't care.”
He was about to pull his head back when Malfoy closed the gap between them with a feverish kiss - and Harry couldn't hold back anymore. His hands moved to Malfoy’s hair, just like he had wanted to do for the last few months, feeling the soft strands, and tugged slightly at them.
Malfoy gasped and Harry used that to deepen their kiss, and Malfoy let him, pressing himself against Harry until they lost their balance and tumbled backwards so that he laid on top of Harry now.
One hand still in his hair, Harry began to explore Malfoy's back - heart beating fast, he carefully moved his shaking hand under Malfoy’s shirt to caress the soft skin there.
Malfoy's hands were clutching at his ratty old shirt as if he would die if he let go of him. They stayed like this for several minutes, only moving if they needed some air.
Shifting a bit, he suddenly felt Malfoy's hard prick pressed against his own and they both let out a gasp.
He felt Draco's hand move under his shirt and as Harry moved his hips up once more the other man pulled away from their kiss with red cheeks to look at him.
“You don't have to study right now, do you?” he asked with a smile that short-circuited Harry's brain for a moment.
“No, I'm free right now. What do you have in mind?” Harry said as his brain began to work again.
“Well, someone told me I just have to say something if I want to see him naked. I think I would like to accept that offer now, love.”
“Are you sure about that?” Harry grinned back.
Draco pressed down at Harry so that he could feel his hard length pressing against his own again, “Yes, I'm really sure about that.”
With a grin, and a word-and-wandless spell, Harry vanished their clothes and pulled Draco back into a kiss, shuddering at the feeling of Draco's naked body on top of his.
“Bloody show off,” Draco gasped against his mouth and Harry couldn't help but laugh a bit before he kissed him again with pure want.
After that it was only messy and aimless fumbling and rutting against each other and Harry felt his orgasm build up too soon.
“Draco… I’m going to…” he gasped.
“Yes, come for me, Harry. Please.”
That was all it took and Harry came between them with a loud groan, shortly followed by Draco and a whispered “Harry” that was nearly too quiet for him to hear.
Draco slumped down on him and they both tried to catch their breath. A few minutes later Draco rolled off of him to fetch his wand from where he had dropped it and cast a few cleaning charms over them before he laid down next to Harry and pulled the blanket over them.
Harry pulled Draco close to him and kissed him again, this time softer and full of promises for their future.
“Stay?”
“As long as you’ll have me, Harry.”