Here I am again, ignoring my inbox but instead struck with sudden longing and feelings, so enjoy a short ass drarry drabble that I am writing directly into the new post without double checking anything 😎
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He didn’t know exactly what it was, but it was always easier for Draco to be honest in the soft cover of night. The moon held no secrets from him, and he was already written in the stars. Draco could lie, surely he was a master at that. He could lie to himself, but he could never quite bring himself to lie the image of him in the stars. He guessed that somewhere within him, he felt he would one day be deserving of more than that.
So he told the truth in the dark, under covers. Harry had to have been aware by now, and he was as clever a liar as Draco, but Draco was grateful for the way Harry pretended to sleep, and never said anything in the morning. With a sleep warmed Harry in his arms, Draco would trace the pulse on Harry’s wrist with feather light touches, and breath simple kisses to his mop of hair. And then he would start.
Draco says I love you to Harry three times each day. Once in the morning, through forehead kisses and a cup of tea, with a splash of milk and three sugars. This is for Harry, for who he knows actions speak louder than words. He doesn’t plan on stopping.
He says I love you after their lunch, through the phone or in person. This is number two, and it is for the world. It brings a smile to Harry that quirks the lips of his friends, and the world is content to leave them alone if they can hear the love between them.
Number three is for Draco, and it is a confession. Draco could speak for hours upon days upon weeks upon years, and he would never run out of confessions for Harry.
Tonight, Draco breaths in with his nose pressed firmly to Harry’s hair. It grounds him, and with his eyes on the moon peaking from behind the drapes, he whispers.
“Sometimes, I don’t think my life started before I held you in my arms. It must not have. Because nothing feels as real, as visceral as you. Merlin, sometimes I can’t breath when I look at you. Sometimes I have to stop myself from feeling entirely, before I get crushed.” He’s stroking Harry’s soft skin now, and Draco scrunches yo his face. “Sometimes I cry. And I don’t know what for. Sadness at thinking I might be without you. Happiness to know I have you. Sheer longing, even when you’re right here, in my arms.” Draco’s hold is tight now, but Harry keeps breathing, so he keeps going. “I’m afraid it won’t ever be enough. I’m too greedy, too selfish. I need too much of you, and even if you wanted to leave, sometimes I’m not sure if I could let you go.”
He’s loosing some control he thinks, and stops. He’s confessed enough for tonight. Enough to where his heart won’t burst in the morning, at least. So he sighs and closes his eyes as a cloud drifts over the moon. Harry is warm in his arms, and if Harry is holding him a little tighter than when he first started talking, he just attributes it to the tight hold he has on his heart.
Hello. My name is Sophia and I was once an Angel of Wisdom. I do not know much about myself other than I loved another angel deeply and that I have vague feelings of war.
This is just a blog for me to vent about kin things. If you know me from my other blogs, please leave it be and not associate them together at all. This is something I’d rather keep from the people who don’t know.
If you know me, Sophia, please feel free to interact. The only person I can sort of recall is Lucifer.
I know it has been forever since I actually posted something....but here is something?
Shout out to @spinnersendslytherin for throwing some really sweet fics my way when I was having a bad day. I promised you a drabble that you could prompt, and I am so so sorry it took me literally two entire (3 entire?) months to come back to you with this, but I really hope you enjoy my first jump back into the fandom!
Paring: Drarry
Tropes: Oblivious Harry
Word Count: ~1700
October
Harry squinted, and rubbed at a smudge on the window.
“Mate, don’t tell me you’re looking at Malfoy again.”
Harry jumped a little and sheepishly adjusted his glasses. “I don’t know what it is, Ron, I just feel as if I need to keep an eye out for him. He’s always alone, and he hates the forbidden forest, why is he even going in there?”
Ron flipped a page of the comic book Harry had brought for him at the beginning of term. The fact that the main character could fly on demand without a broom psyched him out a little, but he seemed like a good enough bloke, and the drawings held his interest.
“Why don’t you walk with him then?”
Harry glanced back. “We aren’t friends. Besides, maybe he wants to be alone.”
Ron snorted, but didn’t look up from a particularly nice looking drawing of the superhero in some tight latex. “Yeah, sure, mate. Maybe he really wants to just be left alone. In the forbidden forest. The worst place on Earth.”
---
November
Harry was frantically scrabbling to swing his robes on without dropping his bag or tripping over the moving stairs when his wand conveniently dropped out of his pocket and rolled down the steps and off of the staircase in mid-swing.
“Fuck!” He swore, and glanced over the bannister, only to see his wand flying back up to him and smack him in the face.
“Ow,” Harry said, fumbling with the wand until he caught it between his two palms. “What,” he continued, staring straight at it.
“You should keep a better eye on your possessions, Potter,” A voice said from somewhere above him. Not that it was a mystery voice. Oh no. Harry was all too familiar with this lazy cadence and posh accent. “You never know what could happen.”
Harry glanced up, but couldn’t see against the light coming from above.
“You’re going to miss your staircase if you don’t get moving, Potter.”
“Malfoy, I--” Harry started.
“Don’t mention it, Potter.”
It didn’t occur to him at the time that this had meant that Malfoy had Harry’s schedule memorized. But then again, Harry was oblivious to quite a lot.
---
December
Something wet hit Harry’s cheek.
“Harry! Pay attention to us! We’re neeeeedy!”
Harry rubbed the potato off of his cheek and pushed Seamus’ shoulder. “Sorry, mate, what were you saying?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Listen, Harry, I know I’m one to talk but how long is it gonna take you to realize?”
“Realize what?” Harry asked, but he was already preoccupied with looking back over to the Slytherin table, and a small pile of wrapping paper starting to build up on the floor. “He’s smiling,” Harry said to himself.
Dean raised his eyebrows at Seamus. Seamus rolled his eyes and readied a spoonful of potatoes.
---
January
Hermione poked Harry’s thigh. They were all sitting in a circle, and she was laying down with her head in Pansy’s lap as Blaise, Ron, and Draco argued over the origin of some ridiculous pure blooded tradition of putting a dragon scale in your drink at New Year’s for good luck. Hermione, interested in how red Ron’s face could turn and how fast Blaise’s leg could bounce, thought she would keep the origins of the dragon’s scale (or should she say, mermaid’s scale) to herself.
“You’re staring again,” she whispered. She felt Pansy tug at her hair playfully, and looked to see a small smirk on her face.
“I don’t stare.” Harry was pouting. Hermione turned her attention back on him.
“Why don’t you just go for it? I’m sure it would end well. I have insider information, you know.” She wiggled down further into Pansy’s lap.
Harry shot her a confused look. “Hermione, really, you aren’t good at being cryptic. What are you on about?”
“Oh, I think it’s fairly obvious what she’s talking about, Harry,” Luna breezed, sitting down next to Harry in a puff of yellow and lilac skirts.
“Luna? What--”
“You like him, Harry.” Luna said, looking over to the arguing boys. Draco was gaining an interesting color to his face, Hermione noted, and he seemed to be refusing to glance in their direction.
“What! Sh! What are you--I-I would--what are you trying to imply here?” Harry said, running his hands over his jeans and through his hair.
Luna just looked at him. “I think, Harry, if you didn’t already know and it wasn’t true, you wouldn’t be getting so worked up over it.”
Harry slumped, dumbfounded. “Oh,” he said, and stared straight ahead. Hermione giggled.
---
February
“You’ve been acting weird.”
Harry dropped his broom cleaning supplies all over the floor. “I--what--no, I haven't!” He sputtered, bending down to pick up Miraculous Marcle’s Polishing Potion from the floor. That is, until a black leather shoe, shined to perfection stepped on it first. Harry gulped, face turning red, and looked up at Draco.
Draco took his foot of the bottle, and shuffled a little, in a very uncharacteristically Draco move. “Look, Harry, it’s not as if I don’t appreciate you letting me be a part of your friend group, and if you feel like you’ve done enough, I understand, but--”
“No!” Harry burst out, and Draco looked up startled. “No, I mean I don’t feel that way! I like hanging out with you, I do! I just felt...maybe I was getting a little bit clingy,” Harry ended weakly with a hand on the back of his neck, and eyes focused anywhere but on Draco.
Draco swatted him.
“Ow!” Harry said, looking up and rubbing his arm.
“Idiot!” Draco said, and straightened his robes. “We are friends, now, Potter. Stop ignoring me. It won’t do. I have grown too accustomed to your oafishness to have you distance yourself now.” With that, he turned on his heel and was off.
Harry’s eyes drifted a little lower. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I am fucked.”
---
Valentine’s Day
Everything was going wrong for Harry today.
His alarm hadn’t woken him up in time for him to set up for that evening, let alone eat breakfast, and the outfit he had laid out last night (and had started planning a full bloody week ago), he found under a pile of cat hair, with pulled yarn from the hems.
To make matters worse, he had absolutely made a fool out of himself when he spilled pumpkin juice over himself seeing how good Draco was looking that day during lunch. And then, and then, Draco had used the anonymous letter in the shape of a heart Harry had sent to him to mop him up. Laughing. When Harry had asked him if he had read the note first, Draco had had a strained smile and said it didn’t matter, that it was probably just someone setting up to prank him.
Fuck.
Harry had skipped dinner to finish preparations, and he wasn’t even sure how he was going to get Draco to follow him to the Herbology greenhouses if he thought someone who hated him was going to be there.
Sighing, Harry lit the last orb and sent it floating into the center of the room, and started the treck back up to the eighth year dorms.
On his way, and in his hurry, Harry crashed into someone. Someone who smelled very nice. Someone who looked very nice. Someone who Harry thought was very nice. Fuck.
“Draco! Shit! I’m so sorry!”
Draco straightened with a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Harry! I--you weren’t at dinner.”
“No, I, er, needed to do something,” Harry said, fumbling.
“Oh,” Draco seemed to retreat a little, and took his hand off of Harry’s shoulder. “Are you going to be like the rest of our friends on dates and leave me alone on Valentine’s day, too?” His chuckle seemed forced, and he seemed to only hear what he had said after it had already come out of his mouth. He winced.
“Um, no, actually,” Harry said, taking a deep breath. “I was actually hoping you might was to follow me somewhere?”
Draco glanced up, surprised. “Me? I--Sure. Where are we going?”
Harry’s lips turned up in the corner in a half smile, and he shrugged a little. “I was thinking it could be a surprise?”
Draco was smiling hesitantly, and Harry’s heart spun a little. Maybe not quite everything was going wrong today.
Harry paused with his hand on the door handle, and stole a peak at Draco out of the corner of his eye.
Draco seemed nervous. He was fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, and kept glancing behind him, as if he was expecting someone to pop up and scare them.
Harry almost palmed his forehead.
“Harry, maybe we should--” Harry cut Draco off before he could continue.
“Sorry, sorry. I should have said, I--that it. Um.” Harry released the door handle and scratched his head. “It was--it was me.”
Draco shot him a look, one eye brow raised.
“I, uh, I sent you the letter today,” Harry mumbled.
Draco’s brows rose, and his mouth formed an O. “You! But, you, I?” Draco ended hopelessly.
Harry gave him a sheepish smile. “Here, just....” Harry swung the door open and watched as Draco’s tension melted off his body and a smile appeared on his face.
“Oh, Harry,” He said. The greenhouse was decked in golden orbs floating at different heights, gently rocking off of each other and shedding light on a small picnic blanket bedecked with a couple of loose flowers and some chocolates.
Harry’s hands were shaking, and he looked down again. “I know it’s, well, yeah. And I know you might not, but Hermione said--” Harry was cut off with a gentle squeeze of his hands in Draco’s, and it gave him just enough courage to look into grey eyes.
“I’ve been waiting for you to catch up, Harry,” Draco said, leaning in. “I was almost afraid I had gotten it all wrong.”
“No,” Harry said, drawn into Draco like he had his own gravitational field. “I’m just a little slow.”
But slow was good, he thought, as lips met his. Slow was very good.
It bugs me that I know nothing about myself and I cannot recall anything. I try but I think it just may be the host’s active imagination. But when I think about people I may have known, I do not see their faces but I know what they should look like. And yet I still doubt it’s my own memories or instincts and not the host coming up with it.
My love once had gold eyes. He may not have them now, but I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since he fell. The only thing I can remember clearly about him was that feeling of love being so intense that even my host felt it for three days afterwards.
We argued over what candles to get in a store in a dream once. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in so long and now I cannot even recall his looks. Hell, I don’t even know my own.
Sophiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Have you got your sHIT TOGETHER? DID YOU CLEAR YOUR GODDAMN INBOX? IF YOU HAVEN'T, THIS IS YOUR CALL TO DUTY. DO IT NOW. NOW. NOW. NOW. NOW. HAVE YOU DONE IT YET? Hi. Have you thought about porpoises at all today?
AaaaAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH I DO NOR HAVE ANY SHITS PUT TOGETHER MY INBOX IS CRAMMED WITH PROMPTS FROM LITERAL YEARS AGO THAT I GOT SCARED OF AHHHHhhhhhhhhhhh
Hi! I have not, though I have thought about porcine anellovirus which can indeed infect porpoises.
I don't want Bliss and Rowan to get back together. they're cute but it's so rare you see couples actually break up in media even tho it happens so much irl. plus like, having TWO relationships being focussed on in the sequel seems excessive,,,,
