Harry has a pash on a certain Slytherin. Draco has a snake that’s refusing to eat. When Draco asks him to use his Parseltongue skills to help, Harry sees the opportunity he’s been waiting for. There’s just one small problem: Harry can’t bring himself to tell Draco that he isn’t a Parselmouth anymore.
Prompt/Request: “Hello! Prompt: drarry, summer day, it's raining, but it's warm, the air smells fresh like rain and grass. They're sitting in the terrace of Manor and drinking some berry or herbal tea. It'd be good if it'd be the beginning of the relationship, or the first kiss, or even pre-slash. Just warm and cosy.” - anon
Tags: Mutual pining, Scheming!Narcissa, Oblivious!Harry, Oblivious!Draco, First kiss, Getting together
Warnings: an abnormal amount of italics
Words: 1738
A/N: So I made it a mutual pining/awkward kind of bit, I hope that’s fine! It’s just where the story went so, enjoy! (not beta read, sorry if there are any mistakes!)
Read it on Ao3!
Drip, drip, drip
Relaxing deeper into the high-back lawn chair- imbued with cushioning charms, it seemed- Harry let his eyes fall closed and held his teacup closer to his chest. The steam wafted upward toward his nose, heating the small chill he felt there while smelling pleasantly like bergamot. He took a small sip of his earl grey tea, humming quietly in content. Hearing a small giggle, he looked out of the corner of his eye toward Narcissa, smiling and narrowing his eyes.
“Is something funny to you, Mrs Malfoy?” She only giggled again in response, shaking her head toward him. She made a point of holding her teacup delicately- in opposition to Harry’s holding his with both hands fully, covering the entirety of the ceramic- sitting up straight and folding her legs at the ankle like a ‘proper woman.’ It always amused Harry to witness her being ‘proper,’ as she called it, whenever they had tea together. Which seemed to be happening more often lately. However, staring at her posture, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if holding that position all the time just hurt her back.
“It just seems as if you’re enjoying this, Mister Potter,” Narcissa replied softly, glancing over with a small smile and a teasing look. Harry rolled his eyes at the use of his last night, shaking his torso back and forth to help scoot up higher in the chair. He took another quick sip of his tea before placing it down on the garden table between the two of them, looking out toward the rain falling around the terrace they sat upon on the Malfoy estate.
“The rain has always had a calming effect on me. I never really knew why.” Harry smiled, tilting his head and glancing back toward Narcissa. He reached a hand toward her, laying his gently on her own. “Thank you for inviting me over for tea once again. It was very generous of you.” Narcissa scoffed lightly, taking her hand out and patting Harry’s in return.
“Oh, dear. Don’t pretend that you come here to humour an old lady like myself. I know you’re only here to catch glimpses of Draco.” Harry’s eyes widened, taking his hand back and surreptitiously glancing around before looking back to her. He opened his mouth to deny, but stopped once she raised her hand in a halting manner. “Oh, don’t try to evade the truth, Harry. I’m not as oblivious as my dear son, it seems.” Harry blinked quickly, at a loss for words. Quickly, to give himself something to do, he reached for his cup and took a scalding gulp of tea. Narcissa hummed softly, taking a sip of her own just before the doors behind them opened.
“Mother, have you heard from- oh, Potter, what a surprise,” Draco finished in a mumble, his eyes tracing Harry’s form before blinking twice and turning quickly back toward his mother. He cleared his throat, watching Narcissa take her time to turn and give her full attention to her son. “Have you heard from Pansy? She’s supposed to help me with the-” Draco coughed, glancing quickly toward Harry before looking back to Narcissa, “The thing that she promised she’d help me with.”
“She’s supposed to help with the thing?” Harry parroted, cocking a grin toward him, raising an eyebrow. Draco placed a hand on his hip, narrowing his eyes slightly toward Harry before looking back toward his mother. She almost seemed entertained by their banter, though the moment she noticed it wouldn’t continue, she let out a put-upon sigh.
“Well, I suppose I shall go floo her then, shall I?” Narcissa stood, brushing imaginary lint off of her white dress robes while Draco spluttered, shaking his head.
“No, mother, you’re entertaining. I could just go floo her myself-”
“Oh, nonsense,” Narcissa replied, waving her hand in a dismissive manner, a devious little smile lighting up her face, “Although, you are correct that I am hosting a guest. Perhaps you could sit with Harry here for me?” She approached Draco, kissing his cheek and patting the spot softly with her hand twice, mumbling a, “Thank you, dear,” before making her departure.
Both boys watched as Narcissa sauntered back inside, turning and closing the glass door behind her. They turned and met each other’s eyes, both glancing away quickly as if not wanting to be caught looking at the other. Slowly, Draco made his way to the now unoccupied seat, sitting gently in the chair just as a new teacup popped into existence on the table between them. Draco gingerly took the teapot, pouring himself some.
“So,” Harry mumbled, fidgeting his hands together, “It’s very relaxing out here on the terrace?” It wasn’t meant to be a question, but the end of the sentence sounded a bit higher pitch than the rest due to his nervousness, and he hoped Draco wouldn’t call him out on it.
“It is. Mother used to have tea here with me every week as a kid,” Draco mumbled, taking his teacup and taking a small sip before resting the cup on his lap, watching the rainfall around them. Harry considering turning to look as well, but this seemed like an opportune moment to study Draco without him noticing, so he took his chance. His eyes feasted on the scene of Draco sitting calmly, a soft smile began to spread across his face. “I wasn’t a particularly rambunctious child, but sitting here always calmed my nerves back then.”
“I can imagine,” Harry replied quietly, glancing away quickly once Draco turned to look at him. “I mean, she’s been inviting me over for tea time pretty often, and it’s always so peaceful here.”
“She’s the one that’s been inviting you?” Draco mumbled, and Harry glanced up toward him, their eyes meeting.
“I mean, yeah. Is that- uh, do you not want me here? Is it a problem?” Harry could feel his stomach turn, hoping he hadn’t bothered Draco in any way. However, watching Draco suddenly shoot his hand out, shaking his head quickly, he felt the knots in his stomach loosen, and a fluttering feeling replaces it.
“No! I mean, it’s fine that you’re here. That mother invited you. That you’re here because my mother invited you for tea and you came to see her, that’s fine!” Draco rambled quickly, waving his hand- Harry opening his mouth to refute- before accidentally tipping his teacup over and spilling over his pants. He gasped, standing quickly and looking down at his pants, Harry jumping up and reaching for a few napkins near the snack plate and moving to try and pat him dry before realizing that it’s his pelvis and that if he does this he might actually touch his-
“It’s fine!” Draco says frantically, his voice slightly high pitched as he takes a step backwards, knocking into the chair he had been sitting it and toppling it. It hit the floor with a resounding crack! while both boys stared at each other with wide eyes.
It felt as if time had stopped, staring into each other’s eyes for a few moments too long before Draco starts to laugh softly, then louder until he’s bent at the waist, wiping a tear from his eye. Harry watches him until he realizes what had just happened as well, laughing along with him. Draco shakes his head in exasperation, taking his wand out of his holster and waving it in a drying charm, and the realization hit Harry of just how hard he’s fallen for Draco.
“I’m not here just to see her,” Harry mumbled, causing Draco to glance up and raise his eyebrows, asking him to repeat himself. Harry cleared his throat, raising a hand to rub the back of his head. “I mean, yeah, she invites me. And I do come to see her. But I also come to- well, to hopefully see you as well?” He chuckles softly, glancing down at the grey stones under their feet. It was silent for a few moments, and Harry began considering how bad he might’ve messed up before hearing Draco whisper in reply.
“Why?”
“What?” Harry asked, furrowing his brows and glancing up. “Why?” He repeats, then blinks, shrugging. “I mean, you’re certainly attractive, so you’ve got that going for you. But I was also hoping I could talk to you every time I’ve seen you. You’ve changed since the war, and I enjoy our banter.”
“Our banter?” Draco repeats quietly, taking a small step closer toward Harry. Harry nods slowly, dropping his arm and laughing softly.
“Yeah. Though, Narcissa’s caught me out.” Harry shrugged, grinning, “She told me that she knew I came over to see you because of my crush- oh,” He laughed, not realizing what he said but continuing on, “She called you oblivious! I bet you’ll have a right laugh-”
“Crush?” Draco repeated quickly, loud in the stillness around them. Harry blinked, realizing what he said and widening his eyes. He felt his cheeks and ears heat up in a blush, and he chuckled softly.
“Uh- well- I didn’t realize I said that, but yeah.” Hoping he didn’t just ruin everything, he watched for what Draco would do next. The blond seemed taken aback, his mouth falling open slightly before he came to himself, taking another step closer and reaching out his hand slowly, giving Harry plenty of time to lean away.
“On me?” Draco placed a hand softly against his cheek, and Harry couldn’t help but lean into it slightly.
“Well, of course,” Harry whispered softly, watching as Draco began leaning closer slowly. It was as if they were both moving in honey, but eventually their lips touched, and the result was much sweeter than honey. Draco slid his hand across his jaw, to the back of his head, pulling him closer as they both pressed their chests closer, Harry letting his hands land lightly on Draco’s hips. When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against Draco’s, smiling brightly. Draco cleared his throat softly, both of them staring into each other’s eyes.
“I might, also, have a small crush on you as well.” Harry’s eyes squinted as his grin widened, before rushing forward and kissing his lips again, pulling Draco’s hips closer to him. It felt amazing to finally have Draco in his arms, and he could only thank Narcissa for bringing them together.
Day Three of the Drarry Halloween Fest. @drarry-halloween-fest . Inspired by a post I can’t find anymore and Greenboxshop.
Draco swept his arm across the t-shirt and letters appeared, one after the other. The number of orders they’ve been receiving has been increasing rapidly. The reason behind it was probably Granger’s insistence on joining their company. Before, their business sold enough to stay afloat. He and Pansy decided to keep their identities secret so their part in the war wouldn’t affect their business. That way they were able to start from the bottom and build some kind of name for themselves.
The company was very important to them. They were both activists and they made shirts and other apparel that addressed different social issues like racism, blood supremacy, sexism, and problems the LGBTQIA+ community has to face. It started out with just them, but expanded to the Greengrass sisters and the Zabini’s. To everyone’s surprise, Luna Lovegood heard of their company and wanted to join as well. Apparently, Luna talked about her new job often and Hermione grew interested. When Hermione joined, she joined with the promise that more of her friends would like to contribute as well. Since then, Thomas, Finnigan, Brown, the Patils, Weasleys, and even Potter had given something to the company. They usually either volunteered or donated money to help production.
Potter volunteered when he could, but his job as an auror made that difficult. He always made donations, despite Draco’s insistence that no one needs that much money. Potter usually volunteered when Draco was around, so Draco helped him when he could. It was only to make sure Potter didn’t screw anything up, no matter what Pansy often said. And if Draco liked to make Potter laugh, then that was just an added bonus.
Speak of the devil, Potter walked in right as he finished off a new design for shirts they would start stocking soon. He studied it and said, “Love potions do not equal consent? Hm, I’ve never thought of that before. You think of everything.” Draco fought off a blush as he searched for something to say.
“I don’t think of everything. There’s so many issues in the world. No one can address all of them,” Draco assured. Potter nodded thoughtfully as Draco set to work on new shirts. Now that he had the initial design down, he could do about five at the same time.
“Can I help?” Potter asked while gesturing towards the shirts. Draco nodded as he continued work. Normally he wouldn’t allow volunteers to work on new products. Somehow, Potter was always the exception.
They worked in silence, occasionally bumping elbows in the small room. After they had finished about twenty shirts between themselves, Harry spoke up. “Maybe we should test these shirts out. Possibly at dinner?”
“Why would we need to test it? I’ve never done that before,” Draco questioned without looking up from his work. Harry sighed before replying.
“It might give your company some exposure. Wearing it out to dinner in public,” Harry offered.
“I hardly believe that if I go out to dinner that it will receive good press. Maybe if I dined with Granger...” Draco contemplated. Draco put his wand away, his mind working around the idea. He nodded to himself before turning to leave the room.
“Draco, wait!” Harry grabbed his arm to stop him. Draco turned back with an expectant look. “I meant with me,” Harry said.
“Sorry?” Draco asked. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were turning down into a frown.
“I was inviting you to dinner with me,” Harry clarified.
If possible, Draco’s expression grew more befuddled as he asked, “A business dinner?” Harry ran a hand over his face in frustration.
“No. A date. I want to take you out on a date,” Harry stated. Even though Harry spoke clearly, Draco wasn’t sure if he heard correctly. There was no way Harry was seriously inviting him out on a date. That wouldn’t happen in a million years.
“With me?” Draco asked, making Harry groan. Instead of answering aloud, he nodded. Hopefully, Draco would understand nonverbal language better. Both of Draco’s eyebrows raised and he pondered the proposition. After a few moments, he finally said, “Alright.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry spoke, “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven?” Draco nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was going on a date with Harry Potter.
Now... what would he wear?
At exactly seven minutes past seven, Draco heard a knock from his door. Not that he was counting the minutes. After consulting with Pansy (and Hermione since she was with Pansy at the time), he had chosen to wear muggle jeans and his favorite cashmere sweater. He rarely wore the jeans because he thought they would be uncomfortable, but Hermione insisted that Harry would like them.
When he opened the door, he found Harry wearing... jeans and a sweater. They shared a laugh about it before Draco set out to change. His usual trousers and button up gave him a normalcy that would be needed for the night. They both preferred him to be his usual self, anyways.
When he was ready to go, Harry offered to apparate them. No one could blame him for the shiver that ran through his body when Harry guided him through the restaurant with a hand at his back. Or for the blush that blossomed when Harry pulled his chair out for him. It was all so romantic to Draco.
Harry chose a nice restaurant that wasn’t too fancy or run down. The tables were evenly spaced out and lighting came from chandeliers and candle. There wasn’t much privacy, but only because the open floor plan allowed everyone to see the view. Through the windows, you could see the ocean waves crashing against the shore of rocks. It was perfect. He also ordered Draco’s favorite wine, even though he didn’t drink any of it.
At first, Draco feared the conversation would be stilted and awkward. However, once they got through the first few minutes of ‘How this is really happening, I’m not dreaming’, their conversation grew and expanded into multiple topics. They talked about Draco’s company, Harry’s job, social issues, their families, food, hobbies, and anything else they could think of. It was like every other time they talked, but they knew it could grow into something more. Somehow, they weren’t scared, but rather eager to jump in head first.
Time passed by in minutes and then hours before they decided to leave the restaurant. With Draco’s permission, Harry apparated them a few blocks from Draco’s place so they could walk home. A few minutes into their walk, Harry reached for Draco’s hand and they continued their trek hand in hand. Occasionally, one of them would squeeze to ensure themselves it was actually happening. After months, years even, of pining, hoping, daydreaming, and desiring, they had what they wanted: each other.
They arrived at Draco’s place all two soon. Before officially saying goodnight, they shared a kiss full of promises. Promises for a second date. Promises for a relationship. Promises to do everything they can for each other to keep their feelings alive.
It was the start of something truly magical, even for wizards.
Draco can’t keep cacti alive, let alone flowers. None of this stops Neville Longbottom from giving him potted earth with promises of a seed nestled inside. “Don’t worry,” he assures Draco. “Harry will help.”
Which makes no sense—surely Potter’s saviour complex doesn’t extend to plants! Spoiler: it does, leading to Potter coming over to Draco’s place for dinner more frequently than ever.
Or, the one where everyone knows that Harry and Draco are dating...except them.
Draco has spent the years since the war tucked away in his house working on potions with only an 18th-century portrait for company, but Potter knocking on his door in need of a dueling partner might just change his life in ways he could never imagine.
