25 Days of Drarry - Day 9
Day 9 of 25 Days of Drarry
Prompt I -- Footprints in the Snow
Image Description: An expanse of snow is disturbed only by a set of footprints leading away into the distance. The proximity of the footprints to each other indicates the person was taking shortish steps. The maker of the footprints is nowhere to be seen and there are no geographical features visible save for the flat expanse of white snow.
Tags: Auror Partners, Powerful!Harry, Injured!Draco, Getting Together, Anger, Fluff
Read more under the cut or here on AO3.
Harry’s surprised that the snow under his feet isn’t melting with how hot his anger burns through him. Snow keeps falling around him and the ground is already covered in quite a few inches which makes the crunching sound beneath his black Auror boots quite satisfactory.
He feels his magic crackling at the tips of his fingers, begging to be released. But there’s nothing for him to do. Not here, not at home, not at the bloody office from which Ron had banned him just a few minutes ago. It’s moments like these that Harry hates that Ron is his boss nowadays. Because his best friend knows him inside out, knows that Harry needs to cool down away from work, otherwise he would just bury himself in the next case, although he just finished a draining case today.
Harry huffs and makes a sharp left turn. There are people around him, looking at him curiously but he doesn’t even notice them. He just focuses on his steps, the cold air streaming through his lungs and the snowflakes landing on his eyelashes. He quickly wipes them away, the scratchy fabric of his gloves catching on his skin.
He doesn’t realize where he’s going until he stops in front of St. Mungos. He tilts his head back, looks all the way up to the roof, more snow falling into his face. The flakes immediately melt on his hot skin, melt away the anger until he feels nothing but empty. He focuses his gaze on the entrance, watches how adults and children walk in and out. Watches Wixen in Healer robes strut around, faces grim or happy. One with a deep blue robe walks out and immediately lights a cigarette. They take a deep drag and visibly relax, shoulders dropping and brows smoothing out.
Harry’s not the only person around here. Not the only person with emotions and anger and stress. But he shouldn’t be here. He should be the one laying in one of those beds inside, not his stupid Auror partner trying to play hero.
The anger crawls back through his veins and he starts walking again, now up the few steps toward the entrance, and pushes the door open without touching it. Magic once again sizzling around him.
He draws everyone’s attention toward him immediately but he ignores them, as usual. He stalks to the front desk, a young man, probably one of the trainees, greets him with wide eyes.
“Hello Mr. Po- Potter,” he stammers and Harry has no fucking patience for this. “How can I he-”
“Where is Malfoy?” Harry spits, his fingers flexing and forming fists, pulsing like his quickened heartbeat.
“Ex- excuse me?” the trainee asks, mouth slightly open.
“Malfoy,” Harry repeats. “Draco Malfoy. He’s here. Tell me where.”
“I am sorry, Mr. Potter, but that’s confidential. If you’re not family or registered as an emergency contact I am not allowed to tell you anything.” The trainee looks apologetic and Harry’s a little surprised that he managed to form an entire sentence.
“I think you misunderstood,” he says lowly and leans over the counter, his right hand outstretched right in front of the trainee’s face. No one else can see it, his body covering the sight. He conjures a little ball of magic, feels the heat radiating from his skin. The trainee’s eyes widen in fear. Good. Harry enjoys being feared way more than being adored. He learned that it’s even more effective to get his way. “Where. Is. Draco. Malfoy.”
A stream of light zips out and hits the trainee’s face, who immediately jerks back. Harry knows that it’s only a light sting but it serves the purpose. The trainee scrambles toward the computer and types something. After five seconds he turns back. “Room 283, second floor, turn left, then it’s at the end of the hallway.”
“Thank you,” Harry drawls and smirks at the man. Then he turns and follows the directions until he’s standing in front of room 283. The door is closed but Harry can sense that Draco’s alone in the room. It probably means that he’s stable and not in need of urgent care. Something eases in his chest but it’s not enough.
“Harry? What are you doing here? Ron said he sent you home!”
Harry rolls his eyes. Of course, would Hermione find him in the blink of an eye. He turns toward her. She’s wearing the same dark blue robes as the Wixen with the cigarette. So they are a head of a department as well.
“Don’t you know me better than that?” Harry grits out and now Hermione is the one to roll her eyes.
“Of course I do. Which is why I am here. By the way, you made Marcel shit his pants.”
“Who?”
“The young man at the front desk. You can’t just go around and scare people with your ridiculous magic, Harry. What were you thinking?” Hermione crosses her arms in front of her chest. She can nearly lay them down on her stomach, her bump nearly that big now that’s only a few weeks until Rose gets a sibling.
“He wasn’t cooperative,” Harry shrugs.
“He was doing his job. Which is also what Draco did, by the way. So there’s no reason for you to behave like a neanderthal around here or the DMLE.”
And there it is again. The anger creeping into his body, freezing his heart. Or lighting it on fire. He doesn’t know. He ignores her words and turns back toward the door.
“Harry,” Hermione sighs behind him but he doesn’t care. He opens the door and steps into the room.
And there he is, his stupid Auror partner, lying in the hospital bed, looking too small and fragile in the blue light that the monitors around cast on him. There is something crumbling inside Harry and he feels his hands start to shake. He wants to go. He can’t go. He can’t do anything. So he starts yelling.
“You stupid fuck! How dare you do something this dangerous! And for what? See where that brought you!”
He cannot continue because in the split second he needs to take a breath, there’s a sharp pain in his back and he feels himself falling to the floor. The last thing he hears is Hermione’s voice.
“I’m sorry, Harry. But you can not behave like this in a hospital.”
Then it’s darkness.
*
Harry’s lying on his couch, his front turned toward the backrest, his arms crossed in front of his chest. His head aches. From the day, the anger, the stress, and the fucking hex Hermione hit him with. As soon as he woke up in another room he got up and left the hospital, without checking if Hermione was still there.
Now, it’s three AM and he can’t sleep. Can’t think of anything or anyone else than his Auror partner. He feels restless. So he does the only thing that feels right to him.
He gets up, grabs his invisibility cloak from his bedroom, and makes his way over to Mungos. He decides to take the twenty-minute walk and hopes that it will clear his mind a little.
It doesn’t really. His heart rate picks up as soon as he stands in front of the building. He covers himself in the cloak and waits until one of the staff walks out of the sliding doors to sneak in. He knows where he has to go now and it only takes him two minutes until he’s back standing in front of Draco’s room. He quickly checks his surroundings and when he deems the coast clear, he opens the door.
There he is again, Draco. Lying in the hospital bed, thin covers pushed down under his arms. His face doesn’t look relaxed, brows a little furrowed and lips pressed together. Harry smiles a little. Not even in his sleep, does his Auror partner relax. Usually, it infuriates him, how much Draco cares. Cares too much about others and not enough about himself, which is a big part of the reason why he’s lying here right now. But right now it reminds Harry of the Draco he knows, he doesn’t look as fragile as he did a few hours ago.
Harry steps fully into the room, grabs one of the visitor chairs, and sits down, cloak still covering his body. He continues to watch Draco breathe for a bit and finally, his heart rate goes down a little. He can’t help but to reach out and push a blond strand of hair behind Draco’s ear, then he softly grabs one hand in his own, keeping the touch light. His hand is warm, luckily, but Harry still pulls the covers back up a little. He keeps Draco’s hand in his own, and places his chin on his other hand, leaning on the mattress next to Draco’s body.
He feels his eyelids droop, knows that it’s not a good idea to stay if he doesn’t want to get hexed by one of the healers again. But he doesn’t care. He finally feels a little peace, right here with this man in front of him. So he stays and closes his eyes, just for a minute.
*
Harry wakes from the soft voices around him. He immediately knows where he is, feels the mattress under his cheek where it apparently slid onto while he slept.
“How long has he been here?” he hears Hermione talking in his back.
“I don’t know,” Draco whispers back. A million butterflies take flight in Harry’s stomach. He’s okay, Draco’s okay, is what his mind keeps repeating. Just then does he notice the soft fingers scratching his scalp, gently loosening the knots in his hair. “I first woke up around five, I think. By then he was already drooling on my bed.”
Liar! Harry wants to say, but he stays put.
“You should have seen him yesterday,” Hermione continues and Harry hears how she moves around the room, probably checking Draco’s stats. “Threatening people to get to you, screaming at you, I had to hex him to get him out of here.”
“Merlin,” Draco mutters, his fingers now sliding down to Harry’s face, soft fingertips brushing his skin.
“I know that you haven’t asked me,” Hermione starts but Draco immediately stops her, his fingers gone from Harry’s skin.
“Then don’t say anything,” he grits.
“I think you should tell him how you feel,” Hermione continues undeterred.
He hears Draco huff, his heart rate starts to climb again. He feels his hands start to sweat.
“Hermione,” Draco presses and Harry actually knows what kind of a face he makes. “You just told me that he yelled at me! While I was unconscious!”
“Because he was scared to death, for fuck’s sake! Because you threw yourself in front of him, taking several stunners and hexes to your head and chest. He thinks that he should be the one lying here. Because he loves you.”
It’s rare, nowadays, to hear Hermione outraged. She’s gotten calmer since she became a mum two years ago. She doesn’t sound like that now. Harry doesn’t even wonder how she knows that he’s in love with Draco when he realized that just two months ago. She’s Hermione after all.
“He does not,” Draco replies petuantly.
“I do,” Harry finally intervenes and lifts his head. His eyes need a second to focus but when they do his breath hitches. Draco’s looking at him with wide grey eyes, his mouth slightly parted. His cheeks are rose-coloured and his brows raised. “Merlin, I’m so in love with you, Draco. You infuriate me, you always argue with me, you are the best partner I’ve ever had and you are the most brilliant and gorgeous man I’ve met. I want to be with you always and I hate you for putting yourself in such danger as you did yesterday! I cannot lose you, do you understand that?” Harry’s speech is getting faster and louder with every word. The silence after he finishes is deafening, only interrupted by the soft click of the door when Hermione leaves the room.
There are tears prickling in his eyes, his heart clenching in his chest. He doesn’t know what to do. What if he just ruined everything? What if he pushed away the best person he knows? What if Draco will report him at work for sexual harassment? What if -
“Come here,” Draco chokes out, his arms opening wide. Harry doesn’t think twice and surges forward. He buries his face in Draco’s neck, while Draco slinks his long, strong arms around his shoulders. “I love you, too, you stupid prick. Of course, I couldn’t let those arseholes harm you. I can’t lose you either, arsehole.”
Harry lets out a wet laugh and pulls back a little. There’s a soft smile on Draco’s face and tears sliding down his cheeks.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks and Draco starts nodding before he’s finished his sentence.
So he bows forward again and finally seals their lips together, relishing in the feeling of warmth spreading through his body. Draco’s hands are around his neck, then on his cheeks, softly stroking the skin under his eyes. A hot tongue strokes his bottom lip and Harry immediately opens up, angels their heads a little so they slot even better together.
He knows that they still have a lot to talk about and to work through. He doesn’t know how this can work while being Auror partners. But all of that doesn’t matter at this moment, because he’s got the love of his life in his arms, healthy and safe and warm and they love each other.
That’s all that matters.
Day 8 -- Day 10
