“So you’re sulking because Malfoy said you weren’t hot enough for him” | Drarry | 1,089w
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“Harry, are you even listening to me?”
“Er—sorry, what?” Harry dragged his gaze from Draco Malfoy back to the stunning witch sitting across from him.
Clara frowned. “You weren’t listening. You weren’t even looking at me.” She sounded more surprised than upset.
Her eyes slid across the Leaky Cauldron to where Malfoy sat at a corner table. “Who’s he? Your ex?”
Harry’s mouth dropped. “What? No! I’m not— I wouldn’t—”
She raised a perfectly arched brow. “Then why do you keep glancing at him when you’ve got me in front of you?”
Harry grimaced, lowering his voice. “Could you not say that so loudly? He’s got ears like a bloody hawk. And… everyone knows we hate each other.”
That didn’t even begin to explain the way his pulse kept jumping every time Malfoy shifted in his seat.
“Could you not stare at him, please?”
“Why? Are you jealous?” She asked.
“Why would I be jealous? I don’t give a toss about him.”
Her smirk sharpened. “I meant jealous over me, Harry, not him.”
Harry flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… don’t want him to think we’re talking about him.”
“Harry,” she said flatly, “we are talking about him.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I know. No idea why.”
“Well, from where I’m sitting, it’s obvious. You keep watching him, like you’re expecting a reaction.”
“I just—” Harry hesitated, staring into his Butterbeer. “I want something from him. A reaction. But with that perfect bloody mask of his, I can’t even tell if he’s paying attention.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re using me.”
“What? No!” Harry said quickly. “I like you! You’re gorgeous. I just… maybe I want him to notice I’m here. With you.”
“So you do want to make him jealous.”
Harry dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, all right? But a few days ago he told me I wasn’t his type, and—Merlin, it’s insulting.”
Her laugh was low and warm. “So you’re sulking because Malfoy said you weren’t hot enough for him?”
“I’m not sulking. And he’s wrong.”
“Then prove it. If you want his attention, kiss me. Right here.”
Harry blinked. “Really?”
She glanced around the nearly empty pub. “Why not? We’re in a dark corner. No one’s looking.”
Harry’s eyes flicked to Malfoy, who was deep in conversation with another wizard. No sign he’d noticed a thing.
“All right,” Harry said, sliding closer. He kissed her—warm lips, soft curves, her hand curling in his hair. She kissed like she knew exactly what she was doing. Her fingers slipped under his shirt, tracing muscle, and then—
A throat cleared.
Harry opened his eyes. Malfoy stood a few feet away, arms folded, expression sharp enough to cut glass.
Heat curled in Harry’s stomach. He kissed Clara harder, locking eyes with Malfoy.
“This is a public establishment, Potter,” Malfoy said coolly.
Clara’s lips moved to Harry’s jaw, down his neck.
“Why do you care?” Harry asked, breath hitching.
“Have some respect for others present,” Malfoy said, gaze flicking to Clara’s hand as she toyed with the fastening of Harry’s trousers.
Harry chuckled. “Admit it, Malfoy… you just want to be in my place. …Or hers.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. If you don’t stop, I’ll have you thrown out.”
Clara pulled her hand back instantly.
“Happy now?” Harry leaned back in his seat, knees spread, not bothering to refasten.
Her throat constricted—that awful pressure that came before tears.
It had taken everything in her not to cry in that office. Every scrap of self-control she’d sharpened over nearly thirty-one years of being underestimated. Her Muggleborn Integration Programme. Gone. Seven years of backbreaking, soul-crushing, throat-scraping work. Obliterated. When it’d barely just come out of the womb. Effectively killed in its infancy.
Because of bloody budgets.
Her nails bit into her palms. She uncurled her fingers deliberately, one by one, and pressed them flat against her robes. Breathe.
The Ministry had no problem funding Magical Sports and Games—enough Galleons thrown at broomstick races and Quidditch pitches to rebuild half of Diagon Alley. No shortage of coin for the DMLE or International Wizard Cooperation either. But Muggleborns? Muggleborns were where they drew the line in the sand.
The action was clear—you are second-class citizens. The stepchild ruining a fresh start for the newlyweds.
She swallowed against the lump in her throat. It wouldn’t move. Stubborn thing. Like everything else in her life.
It all hinged on the lack of clear success. Not that success would’ve been an option with the shoestring budget they’d given it. It was a miracle the programme had worked at all.
Knowing the Ministry, it was launched to fail for this very reason. Racist pricks. Like a parent giving a child a mint when they’d wanted a sweet.
She reached blindly for the wine bottle on the coffee table, refilled her glass without looking, and took a long swallow. The ceiling stain still flipped her off.
She thought of the Muggleborn kids. Eleven years old, handed a letter by a stranger, told to abandon everything they knew in four weeks. A metaphorical “here, now leave”. Her own mother’s face flashed behind her eyes—blank and polite, the careful smile of a woman greeting a guest. She swallowed hard against further tears.
The statistics lived in her head like tenants who never paid rent. Muggleborns struggled harder in their first years. Landed worse jobs after graduation. Some gave up and went back to the Muggle world, only to find the exchange rate had eaten their savings. A few Diagon Alley businesses had shuttered just this month, their windows papered over with old editions of the Prophet. The pubs and bookshops were the only ones thriving.
Because people needed a means to escape.
Didn’t they bloody all.
Crookshanks pressed his head against her ribs, purring louder now, as if he could feel the frequency of her unravelling. She scratched behind his ear and felt her throat tighten again.
She’d hoped the programme would help strangle blood prejudice in its cradle. Give Muggleborns a leg up instead of a leg down. Build the case for adult programmes next. Regulations. Rights bills for her kind.
A level playing field.
Was that really so fucking much to ask?
Though she didn’t want to get ahead of herself and dismantle an entire government before the age of forty—she’d take it up in middle age. Her failed attempt at twenty notwithstanding. But she didn’t think about those times. Impulsive and stupid. Brain not fully cured.
Grabbing a navy pillow from behind her head, she pressed it to her face and screamed into it—a raw, ragged, ugly sound muffled into cotton and down. Exorcising the drunk and addled demon inside her chest. She screamed until her lungs ached, until the sound thinned to nothing.
Until Crookshanks’s purr was the loudest thing in the room.
Due to a budgetary shortfall, we are unable to continue funding your programme as it did not meet the full requirements its first year. In order to proceed with the 2009 school year, the remaining funds must be supplemented by a donation, anonymous or otherwise. If not, the programme will be discontinued.
Drarry fics where Draco is absolutely whipped for Harry? Especially love when everyone seems to know it except for Harry.
Thanks! :)
Hi there! It’s hard to see Draco let Harry do whatever he pleases even when he’s pining ahaha but I do have a few suggestions. Would highly recommend eidheann and lettered as authors who usually write fics with a hopelessly in love Draco:
The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by hiimcibee (T, 19k)
Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!
And Back Again (Where You Belong) by eidheann (E, 16k)
He thought back on their previous handshakes, and smiled faintly at the fact they always seemed to mean so much more to him than they did to Potter.
Whoo Knew? by oceaxe (E, 18k)
Despite having had a crush on his Auror partner for years, Draco's been biding his time and waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his case. But when Harry subscribes to a new wizarding personals service, Draco gets a wake-up call.
Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (E, 19k)
In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.
Nothing But You On My Mind by Moonflower_Rose (M, 21k)
Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? Loads, as it turns out.
The Green Vial by eidheann (E, 31k)
After months of seeing Harry Potter walk into his Apothecary disappointed and hopeless, Draco offers to carry the baby that Harry can't. Now he's just got to hide the fact that he's been half in love with Harry for years.
dirtynumbangelboy by magpie_fngrl (E, 39k)
After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.
Another Heart Whispers Back by slytherco (E, 53k)
At twenty-five, Harry Potter is still a virgin and sorely lacking in options to change that state anytime soon. To help him find a plus one for Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and maybe kill two birds with one stone, Harry’s friends set him up on a series of blind dates. The only problem is, there’s something not quite right with each of their candidates.
Harry Potter Gives a Shit by talithan (E, 58k)
“Where are you headed?” “No place special,” Draco fumbled, and flushed further. But then: “I can change that,” said Harry Potter.
Finely Drawn Lines by The_Sinking_Ship (E, 61k)
Draco doesn’t consider himself an artist (though the dozens of sketchbooks lining his shelves might suggest differently). Yet ever since Potter returned to Hogwarts, accepting a teaching position alongside Draco, his drawings have taken on a rather singular focus.
Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (E, 104k)
Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.
By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)
Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.
Drarry | Established Relationship | Angst with a Happy Ending| Pre-wedding Jitters
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just me.”
“Just you,” Draco scoffed. “As if that weren’t precisely the problem.”
Harry frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Draco pressed his face into the crook of Harry’s neck.
“Draco.” A heavy sigh fell into his hair. “Will it help if I’m naked?”
Yet another sequel to Of Taming Dragons and Charming Cupboards, but it can be read as a standalone. Read the fic here (AO3 link)
Theo took a deep drag of his cigarette as he peered up at his friend who was pacing the length of Theo’s study with nervous energy. Exhaling, he allowed his eyes to drift up, following the curl of smoke that rose slowly into the air above his head.
“I thought Granger was okay.” Theo said as he flicked the ash from his cigarette and into the ashtray made of marble. It sat on the chestnut wooden table beside his favorite chair.
Draco laughed but it was tortured and loud. It bit, like the bark of a dog about to attack it’s owner. “She’s fine. I mean, I think she is?” His feet stopped moving long enough for him to run his hands tiredly over his face, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palms before he resumed his journey back and forth along the black rug that was laid out in the middle of the room.
“What do you mean? Didn’t you just leave the hospital?” Theo lifted the cigarette to his lips for another drag.
“Yes.” He growled before throwing himself, finally, into the chair next to Theo’s.
Theo blew out smoke as he tilted his head, observing Draco. “You’ve been incredibly grim since you called me to the hospital.”
“She died, Theo.”
“You saved her.” He pointed at him, cigarette still between his fingers and threatening to drop ash all over the floor. He leaned over the arm of the chair and flicked the ash into the marble dish.
Draco frowned and rolled tension out of his neck, moving it side to side.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, actually...” Theo started, eyeing the tell-tale signs of a Draco who was holding onto something important. Something dark and secretive. “How did you save her, by the way.”
With a frown still pressed firmly into his mouth, tension bracketing it, Draco shook his head. “I already told you.”
“Yes, but...” Theo shoved the cigarette into the dish, putting it out. “There’s something off about you.” Theo took a breath when Draco looked up at him with a scowl. “More than usual,” He amended. “You’re frightfully unhinged.”
“I’m not unhinged, Theo.” Draco slapped a hand down, lowering it from his face, to land onto the arm of his chair. “I’m freaking out.”
“Because Granger died.”
“Yes.”
“And you saved her.” Draco was quiet. “And because you love her.”
“I don’t love her, Theo. She’s my coworker.”
“Who you obsess over.”
“I don’t.”
“But, you do. You talk about her all the time and when you aren’t with me and Pansy, you’re with her. Which is increasingly more and more. And now, after spending the last three days attached to her hand as she lay limply in a hospital bed, she’s finally woken up and you’re...” Theo swept a hand out, gesturing to the room around them. “Here.”
“Potter and Weasley showed up.”
“Ah,” Theo clasped his hands and steepled them before pressing them to his mouth. “The fiancé.”
“The fucking git.” Draco growled and threw his head back against the chair. So hard that Theo was certain that it hurt.
“Tell me what really happened on Monday, Draco.” Theo lifted a brow when his friend looked at him, a mild look of surprise on his face. “Come on, mate. You know I know you. You weren’t entirely honest in your report to the staff, were you?”
Draco’s lips pressed into a tight, thin line, before he inhaled deeply through his nose. “He killed her.” He said, quietly. “That bastard used the killing curse on her, hit her square in the back.” He slashed his hand out, as if he could cut the wizard down once more. “So,” He sat up and straightened the collar of his shirt. Which was terribly wrinkled from having slept in a hospital chair for three nights. “I killed him.”
“I figured. How did you do it?”
“I used the same curse.” He sniffed. “After bashing his head against granite.”
“Atta boy.” Theo shrugged. “So, what? The wizard had it coming.”
“That’s not what I’m upset about, Theo. I know he deserved it. I could do it a million more times and not feel a shred of remorse.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Theo stood from his chair and stretched his arms high above his head. Enjoying the bit of light headedness that came from the combination fo the cigarette and getting up too fast.
“I may have,” Draco pursed his lips, fumbling for the right words. “Turned her into a horcrux?”
Theo’s arms froze above his head as the words sunk in. Slowly lowering his arms, he looked down at his friends guilty face and knew he wasn’t lying. He wasn’t pulling some absurd kind of joke. He wasn’t trying to get a rise out of him.
“What.” Theo took a deep breath. “Do you mean, you turned her into a horcrux?” Theo rounded on his friend, hissing the last words of his question into his face. “What the fuck did you do?”
“I could feel her soul there, her magic was slowly slipping away, Theo! I used the kill of the assailant and I took a piece of my soul — a sliver, really. I can’t even tell it’s gone — and I attached it onto hers.”
“How do you even know how to do that shit, Draco?” Theo pressed a hand over his eyes.
“I looked into it after the war.” He frowned and shook his head. “But it’s not like I’m trying to make several. I’m not trying to become immortal, Theo. I needed to save her! I needed her back!” He shot to his feet and grabbed the front of Theo’s shirt. “She was slipping away and I needed her to stay. It felt like I had died, too, right then and there. So, I figured, what the fuck, right? If this is what its like to die, then why not part with a little bit of my soul?”
“Because it’s the darkest kind of fucking magic there is, Draco!” Theo grabbed onto his shoulders and shook him. “Does she know?”
“No.” He shook his head and licked at his dry, cracked lips. “But she will. She’ll figure it out. She’s fucking brilliant, I know she will figure it out.” Draco’s face crumpled. “She’s going to fucking hate me, Theo.”
Ah, the real reason for Draco’s woeful despair.
He shook his head and patted his shoulders. “It’s alright, Draco. We’ll figure this out.”
“How? What’s there to figure out? She’s got a piece of me in her. She’s alive and I fucked up but, did I?” He asked, frantic and breathless. “Did I really fuck up? Because she’s alive and she’s still her.” He paused and shook his head. “I mean, for the most part, she’s still her.”
“What do you mean, for the most part?”
“Well, her eyes changed. They’re a bit like mine, actually.”
“Mate,” Theo sighed and lowered his head. “What the actual fuck?”
“It’s nothing. They don’t know.” They, Theo assumed, meant everyone. “As far as they know, it’s a mysterious curse. And really, she’s vital and just as beautiful as before.”
“Beautiful as...Draco,” Theo smacked his cheek, hard enough to shut him up but not hard enough to anger him. “Focus.”
“On?”
“We need to figure out what this is going to do to you. And her.”
“As long as I’m alive, she’s fine. Right? Or is it the other way around?”
“Fuckme.” Theo muttered and pushed away from his friend. “Just, don’t do anything rash until we figure it out. Okay?” He looked over his shoulder and eyed his friend.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Draco murmured with a shake of his head. But Theo saw it in his face. Draco was calculating. He was hungry for Granger, starved. He had been pining after her for the last two years and it was starting to eat at him.
Now, that bit of his soul that was being eaten away by his love for her was now, possibly, inside of her.
What that meant, Theo didn’t know. But surely, it wasn’t going to be decent.
