#gnarf writes

[gnarf]

25 days of Draco and Harry traditional as hosted by @slythindor100

Find my early bird fic on AO3

On the third Christmas after the war...

CW: injury, hospital stay, trapped in body experience

The third Christmas after the war Harry was aware of the celebrations happening, however he didn't have time to join them.

He was still in training. Robards nevertheless had assigned him a case of his own.

Harry was desperate to prove himself.

The night before Christmas he had a breakthrough, running head first into danger as usual.

But this time he paid for it.

It hadn't looked dangerous. A lovely old brick house, a small fence, a well kept garden. Something he would want for himself one day.

It all went to hell.

The next thing he remembered was briefly waking up in St Mungo's, hearing his friends whisper at his bedside while he drifted in and out of consciousness.

He heard the Healer as he told them to leave, that Harry was stable and they couldn't do anything more to help that night.

Hermione cried as they all walked away.

Harry desperately tried to fight his own body, wanting to tell them he was awake, that he'd be fine, but he couldn't.

He wanted to scream, and throw his arms into the air, rage at the Healer for sending them away.

No sound left his lips, and the biggest movement he managed was a twitch of his hand.

Resigning, he decided there was nothing he could do but allow himself to drift off again, hoping he'd be better the next time he woke up.

He nearly missed the quiet sound of the door opening once more.

Footsteps approached his bed and a cold hand took his own.

"You really shouldn't worry your friends so much, Potter."

Harry knew that voice immediately. He'd hear it even when a million people were speaking at the same time.

Malfoy.

He couldn't answer, couldn't move, but he heard the monitoring spell on his heart beep faster as he tried and failed over and over again to react.

"Well look at that," Malfoy laughed, drily. "Seems like you're still in there after all. Happy to see me? Or are you mad? I really can't tell."

Malfoy stayed silent, his hand in Harry's shaking slightly.

"I can't stay, I told them I forgot something in your room. But how about this, for the sake of tradition?"

Harry heard rustling before feeling soft warm lips pressed against his forehead.

Malfoy left quickly after that, not saying another word.

Harry wanted to laugh, scream and cry about the entire fucked up situation. But his body refused to cooperate.

So he drifted off, waiting, hoping.

[See the full prompt and previous parts below the cut]

[Part 1] [Part 2] ~ [Part 4]

[gnarf]

25 days of Draco and Harry traditional as hosted by @slythindor100

Find my early bird fic on AO3

On the second Christmas after the war...

The second Christmas after the Battle of Hogwarts crept in and past Harry unnoticed.

Harry was too caught up with Auror training and too busy trying to learn to actually listen to his superiors for once that he hadn't even noticed December coming and going. Working 12 hour days for his training, six days a week there wasn't much time to do anything else.

Ron and Hermione abducted him for New Year's Eve. Harry didn't even know what day it was until they told him.

He was still in his buttoned up Auror robes when they arrived at a rooftop party in London, having a great view over the River Thames.

Hermione had told Robards on their way out that Harry wouldn't be back tomorrow, so he was happily nursing a glass of champagne while mulling over the fact that he hadn't even realised how the world had moved on around him.

For him the war never seemed to end, the Aurors made sure of it.

For the others things had changed.

There were babies he hadn't even known existed and Ginny was there with her girlfriend that turned out be fucking Parkinson.

Malfoy was there too.

Though this time he was at the centre of the party, and Harry was the one sitting in the back, watching.

It seemed like everyone had found their place, both in the world and in their extended group of friends.

Only Harry somehow didn't fit anymore.

At midnight the fireworks started, throwing Harry into a new year where seemingly everything had changed and nothing was the same anymore.

Or at least most things had.

"Happy new year, Potter. And merry Christmas, happy Easter, everything you've missed and will miss again this year."

Looking to his side, Harry couldn't help but be amused about the fact that it was Malfoy who found him first.

"Happy new year, git. No need to go for my kneecaps."

"How about a kiss, for traditions sake? Looks like we're the only ones not doing it."

Harry laughed, pulling Malfoy in for a kiss.

Traditions are traditions after all.

[Prompt and previous part of the story under the cut]

[Part 1] ~~ [Part 3]

[gnarf]

25 days of Draco and Harry traditional as hosted by @slythindor100

Find my early bird fic on AO3

On the fifth Christmas after the war...

CW: Drinking

Five years after the war Harry was on desk duty.

Until further notice, Robards had said.

There was a bust gone wrong, Harry had arrested the wrong person and a year's worth of undercover work by the department had gone to waste.

Nobody wanted to listen to him when Harry had said that the scumbag had used Crucio on a person right in front of Harry's eyes.

It wasn't the one they were after, and Harry had to pay for it.

The system was rigged, falling apart from the inside. If they let people like this walk free because they weren't the one they were after, Harry didn't even want to put any work into it anymore.

Mentally waving goodbye to his Auror career, Harry rarely showed up anymore. And if he did, he'd make a point by either being drunk or just sleeping at his desk until he got to leave. Sometimes both.

After his shift at the office Harry spent his time brooding over old files, observing people he deemed worthy of observation, and sometimes, sometimes he jumped in to solve an issue without the Ministry.

During one of those observations he stumbled into Malfoy again, at a pub of all places.

He looked well, and to Harry's surprise he was wearing a Weasley jumper.

Taking a seat on the empty chair next to him, Harry ordered himself a pint.

“Where did you get that from?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“Mrs Weasley made it for me. I helped George in the shop this year, potions and such. She must have heard of it because I woke up to a package from her this morning.”

Harry hummed, taking a sip of his beer. He hadn't received a jumper this year. Maybe a sign that he should visit more often, but there was so much to do and so little time.

“You look tired, Potter. Are you okay?”

Harry tried to smile, probably failing miserably. Malfoy was right, he was tired. “You know how it is, loads of work, very little time.”

“A little birdy told me that you're on desk duty. Another little birdy told me you're spending a lot of time vanishing from the face of the earth the second you leave the Ministry.”

“I didn't know you spoke to birds.”

Harry's attempt at lame humour earned him a light smack to the back of the head.

“Whatever you're doing, you're not doing it tonight.”

Harry looked at Malfoy in amusement. “What am I doing tonight then?”

Malfoy smiled, a challenge if Harry had ever seen one. Leaning in, Malfoy placed his hand on Harry's leg and gripped tightly. “Tonight you're coming home with me. And tomorrow we'll see where it took us.”

“Looking to extend our tradition?”

“Getting what I can before you get yourself killed.”

[See the full prompt and previous parts below the cut]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] ~ [Part 6]

[gnarf]

25 days of Draco and Harry traditional as hosted by @slythindor100

Find my early bird fic on AO3

On the first Christmas after the war...

CW: drinking, kissing, party games, no beta

The first Christmas after the war had come with many surprising twists and turns.

The Christmas party at the Burrow had been happier than Harry had expected, and the Ministry ball he was invited to turned out to be a pleasant night with very little worshipping and not a single unprofessional paparazzi following him.

There also was a small party at Luna's new place that was full of drinks and hilarious games.

And a certain blond that spent the early hours in various corners, not sure if he was allowed to join them in their fun.

Only when Harry was dared to kiss Malfoy by none other than Ron himself, he seemed to become less reluctant to sit with them.

He never looked at Harry when Harry looked up. But Harry still felt his eyes on him all night.

Old habits die hard, they say.

So when Harry noticed Malfoy slipping out of the room, he followed him.

"Enjoying the party?"

Malfoy turned, wand in hand, as if Harry was about to attack him and he needed to defend himself. "I'm only getting a glass of water. No need to stalk me again."

Harry chuckled. "I just kissed you, and you still think I'll attack you."

Malfoy scoffed, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "If you call that a kiss, I feel sorry for whichever Weasel you're currently dating."

Grinning, Harry closed the distance between them with two big steps, crashing their lips together.

He was never one to back down from a challenge after all.

And he could hardly allow Malfoy to go around telling people he was a bad kisser.

[Prompt under the cut]

[gnarf]

25 days of Draco and Harry traditional as hosted by @slythindor100

Find my early bird fic on AO3

On the seventh Christmas after the war...

Seven years after the war Harry had vanished from the face of the earth.

Only those who needed to find him, knew where they could.

One of them was Malfoy.

He had nursed Harry back to health without asking a single question, so Harry gave him a way to contact him.

He wasn't sure if Malfoy knew what Harry was doing, knew about the things he was involved in, and if he even wanted to still see Harry once he knew the whole truth.

For now Malfoy didn't ask, and Harry didn't tell, on the very rare occasions they met each other.

Their tradition was the only thing that actually made Harry leave his house.

His bodyguards were very disgruntled when he left them behind.

Harry paid them well and appreciated their input on daily matters, his meeting with Malfoy, however, was not up for discussion.

Apparating to a clearing in a small forest, Harry watched as the sun set.

Alone, for the first time in months.

“I thought you wouldn't come,” a voice from behind him said.

Smiling, Harry turned around. “And miss out on seeing you?”

Draco looked like an angel, the low sun falling on his platinum hair, his cheeks rosy from the cold. The undisturbed snow covering every surface made him look like he floated. Ethereal.

“Your friends started to ask questions.”

Harry looked at him, furrowing his brows. “Did you tell them anything?”

Malfoy shook his head. “Not a word. I like being alive at this point. I'm not sure if I'll remain on this plane of existence if I talk.”

Harry chuckled. Closing the distance between them he lifted Malfoy's chin so he could plant a kiss on his lips. A promise. “I'd never let anyone hurt you. I'd rather burn alive than hurt you myself. If you feel like they need to hear from you that I'm alive and well, tell them.”

Malfoy smiled. “I won't. You're my secret. I'm selfish like that.”

“Close your eyes so I can take us to my place. Don't open them again until I tell you to do so.”

[See the full prompt and previous parts below the cut]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] ~ [Part 8]

[gnarf]

25 days of Draco and Harry traditional as hosted by @slythindor100

Find my early bird fic on AO3

On the sixth Christmas after the war...

CW: blood, blood loss, pain

Six years after the war and on the night before Christmas Harry was bleeding profusely, his entire body was aching, and if he'd have to wager a guess he'd say he had about one Apparition left in him before he'd collapse.

If he didn't make it somewhere safe he'd not wake up anymore.

He needed help, help he wouldn't get at St Mungo's this time.

Closing his eyes he went to the only place he could think of, hoping that he'd still live there.

Malfoy opened the door in a nightgown, holding a candle, and looking very disgruntled about the late disturbance.

That was until his eyes met Harry's.

“What the fuck happened to you, Potter?”

Harry could barely muster the strength to answer. “Help me. No Mungo's.”

He collapsed, feeling Malfoy's arms around him before he could hit the ground.

Warmness spread through Harry.

Then the darkness got him...

[See the full prompt and previous parts below the cut]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] ~ [Part 7]

[gnarf]

CW: Alcohol, drinking, unhealthy coping, body image issues. Aka I'm once again back to my post war bs. Enjoy

Draco couldn't stop thinking about it. Thinking about Potter stumbling into the common room late at night, drunk, barely able to stay on his feet.

He had spotted Draco at the fireplace, eyes growing huge as he slurred out a: "Fuck. You're so fucking pretty."

Potter then had dragged himself to his room, blissfully unaware of his slip, leaving Draco to stare after him.

It was the first time anyone had ever called him pretty. It was also the first time Potter had spoken to him since they had come back to Hogwarts. The first time anyone had acknowledged his presence at all.

And Draco couldn't stop thinking about it. About Potter.

About how lost Potter looked whenever his friends weren't looking at him, the mask finally dropping.

About Potter going out every night, drinking somewhere in this castle full of long lost happy memories.

About Potter stumbling back into the common room, his eyes always finding Draco for just one second.

About being called pretty.

Draco wasn't pretty. He was too many sharp edges, too pointy, too broken.

But Potter found something he could call pretty when he looked at him, and Draco wanted to hear it again. Wanted to know what it was that Potter saw, but he himself couldn't.

Pretty.

Draco followed Potter the next night, mind set on joining him. Maybe he could get drunk too, and maybe he'd hear Potter say it again.

[gnarf]

I have a prompt for you my darling dear. I would love an eighth year story where Harry and Draco are both studying Muggle Studies for... reasons. Anyway, they are given a project of riding the Muggle bus onto the nearest Scottish town, going to a cafe and writing a report about it. No wands allowed. Except Harry decides to treat it like a date.

Thank you for the prompt darling and happy birthday 😍💜💜💜

Draco hesitated, looking sceptical at the bus stop. He didn't like the idea of riding a bus, not trusting those things in the slightest.

Those metal tube things made odd sounds and smelled funny. Also the person responsible for bringing them safely to their destination always looked like they hated them and would very much prefer driving them all off a cliff.

But the absolute worst part was that his assigned partner for this project was Potter. Saint Potter who definitely had lost his marbles after the war because ever since they had returned to Hogwarts, he had treated Draco like an equal, a friend even, and couldn't be bothered by anyone or anything else, no matter what happened.

Right now he was standing right next to Draco, rocking back and forth on his feet while waiting for the bus. In the moments he didn't whistle a happy tune he even went as far as smiling at Draco.

If his nerves wouldn't be so on edge Draco would probably find it highly uncomfortable to stand close enough to Potter for their arms to brush, but right now this was the only thing that kept him from running back to Hogwarts.

The bus finally arrived and Harry smiled at him again before entering first, paying for his ticket and showing Draco how it was done.

Once they found a seat, Draco scrunched up his nose. This bus smelled even worse than the last one he had the misfortune to ride.

Hearing an amused huff Draco looked at Harry. "What?"

"I love how visible your hate for riding a bus is," Harry giggled. He giggled.

"They smell, and I don't trust them."

"Oh I can help with that," Harry said, reaching into the pocket of his coat. "I wanted to wait till we sat down at the café, but here is just as good."

Harry's hand reappeared, carefully closed around the petals of a rose. Handing it to Draco, Harry's smile turned a bit nervous. "For you! It smells amazing. They're from Neville's new project, Amortentia infused. So if yours doesn't smell like roses you should be able to smell it."

"You—" Draco took a deep breath, inhaling the scent coming from the rose. He knew exactly what this smelled like, it had barely changed since the last time he had smelled Amortentia. "Why did you bring me a rose, Potter?" Draco asked weakly.

"Well," Harry looked to the floor, cheeks turning pink. "I wanted to ask you out for a while now. But I couldn't bring myself to just ask. And the rose made me think of you. So I thought, why not?"

Draco gawked, hands shaking. The rose had made Potter think of him? Did that mean—focus. "The rose is lovely, thank you." Draco smiled. Adding a quiet "It'd have reminded me of you as well," at the end.

Harry's head shot up, eyes big. "Really?"

"Yeah," Draco laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'd say it's a date then."

Harry's returning smile was blinding. Maybe riding a bus wasn't that bad. But only if he could do it with his head on Harry's shoulder.