✎When Harry refused his handshake he was disappointed, he really cared, he wanted to be his friend
✎He bullied the golden trio because he envied them, he wanted to have real friends
✎He had no choice, he didn't join the dark side because he wanted to, but because he had to
✎The person he cared about most was his mother
✎Everything he did, he did to make his father proud
✎He never wanted to kill Voldemort
✎When Bellatrix tortured Hermione, Draco wanted to save her, he didn't want to see that scene and hear her screams
✎When Voldemort asked Draco to join his side, he went only because no one stopped him.
✎He thought the twins were funny, he just wanted to live a normal adolescence laughing and joking with others, but his father had other plans...
✎He never wanted to hurt anyone
✎He was jealous of Harry. Harry was loved, admired and known by everyone, Draco on the other hand didn't even have his father's love
✎The only hug he ever got was from Voldemort
It makes me really strange to think of Dumbledore seeing that boy being sorted into Slytherin in his first year, with big bright eyes, and then seeing him in his seventh year, with the Death Eater mark and a broken heart.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Drarry - Fandom
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Pining, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pining Ginny Weasley, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Gay Harry Potter, Gay Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Drarry, Love Confessions, Draco Malfoy In Love, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Confessions, Public Display of Affection, POV Ginny Weasley
Summary:
Harry Potter broke up with Ginny because he realized he was gay. As he dates men and explores his newfound sexuality, Ginny and Draco, as his friends, are forced to watch and pretend to be supportive. All of their friends know that Harry and Draco are in love, even Ginny. The only person who doesn't know is Harry. Draco decides he's done waiting for Harry to figure it out on his own.
AKA: Ginny is sad. Harry is clueless. Draco confesses his love.
I think I might make this a mini series, because I don't like the sad ending of this fic:) Let me know if you want multiple parts to this, or just leave a like/comment if you enjoyed it!
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: Angsty. Sad!Draco, falling out of love, swearing, cheating but not really. There are mentions and implications of sexual activity. This is also a little bit of a Theo x reader. It's in Draco's perspective mainly.
Summary: Draco notices the love of his life slipping through his fingers. Will he win her back? Or is their love a deadline long overdue? Should he show his final act of love by letting her go?
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.
---
He was no fool. He was no fool when it came to love.
He could see her heart slipping away from him. Maybe slowly but surely. He could see it, whether she thought he could or not.
Sure your relationship with Draco was far from perfect. There were so many obstacles, so many hurdles along the way, but throughout it all, you and Draco endured. You thrived and you cherished each other. Your love kept you going.
Draco wasn't so sure anymore.
He wasn't sure, whether it was the passionate kisses turning into small pecks, or the holding hands while walking to class turning into him holding your books for you. Maybe it was the eye contact, that you could no longer hold with him for more than a few seconds. Or maybe the distance. The distance between the two of you.
Draco could feel her slipping away from him. From the small actions he used to love, turning into nothing but a memory. The small smiles exchanged across the room, she was now exchanging with someone else.
He always thought that her love would be enough. He loved her until the very last beat of his heart. He always knew she was never destined to do the same.
It broke him.
To see you smile for the first time in days, only to see that you were looking far, far away from his gaze, to someone else.
He knew you were long gone. Even after all the comforting words of reassurance. When you hold him to your chest at night and tell you that you love him. He feels as though it's not directed to him. Maybe it used to be, but not anymore, not when there was another party involved.
Theo.
Draco was no fool. He was no fool when it came to love.
He could see the way you glanced at Theo from across the room. The shy smiles you sent him when you thought no one was looking. Draco recognised it. It reminded him of the way you used to look at him when you first fell in love.
He knew your gaze was upon Theo, even when you were sat next to Draco, he could sense you looking across the tables, to a familiar head of brown hair.
It broke his heart, to think that every kiss you shared with him, you were imagining a different pair of lips. To think that this wonderful relationship you two have built together was just a deceitful yet beautiful lie.
Draco was no fool.
He knew those empty words. Those 'I love you's' that were meant for someone else.
When he held you, you still felt so far away from him, out of reach.
When he made love to you, and your eyes rolled back. When he whispered in your ear that he loved you, but you couldn't look him in the eye.
It tore him apart
He wished he was enough for you, that your love would live on forever, but that was just too good to be true. Because Draco, well Draco, he's the bad guy, he knows he will never get his happy ending.
It doesn't stop him from loving you, feeling utterly selfish for still keeping you tied to him when you so clearly wanted someone else.
It wasn't simple.
He couldn't just stop loving you, no.
He could never, not after everything you two were and would forever be.
The sleepless nights where he cried in your shoulder, black ink and a rolled sleeve. You'd reassure him, cry with him, his pain was yours. You'd kiss him, like we was your world. Because he was, or at least he used to be.
You had so much love to give, and a Draco knew it wasn't his anymore.
---
So here he was.
Your hands wrapped around his as you cry to him, telling him not to leave you.
"Draco I don't love him I promise!" you cried "I love you! It's always you!"
It made Draco's heart ache, the cold air hitting his hot-tear stained cheeks as he refused to look into your eyes.
"Y/n I see the way you look at him, it's the way you used to look at me. I know you want him. I know I am not enough for you anymore" He admitted it as much as it pained him.
"But Draco, what about everything we have ever been through? Will it not mean anything, I still love you, and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel as though you weren't enough, please don't leave me!" You cried, pain in your voice.
You never meant to fall out of love with Draco, you didn't want to admit it. It would seem more real, that you had moved on. You didn't want to fall out of love with Draco. But you couldn't help it, to fall for the brunette boy that could never compare to Draco. You were disgusted with yourself, you never asked for your heart to betray you. It hurt more that Draco was right. You felt a flutter when Theo walked past, just like it used to flutter around Draco, and it pained you that he was so wrongly right.
"You know I love you y/n. And I think the only way to show you how much I love you is to let you go." Draco said quietly.
He didn't want you to leave. He wished you could grab him, tell him that you loved him, promise to love him forever. But he knew you wouldn't. Because he's Draco Malfoy. The boy without choice, the boy with no happy ending.
He knew that as much as you wanted to run into his arms and hold him, your heart longed for something more. Something that he could never give you.
"Draco" you said. The name feeling so natural rolling off your tongue.
You embraced him and cried into his chest. Feeling so in love with him in that moment, feeling so guilty, so ashamed.
"I'm so sorry Draco" You cried. You never meant to fall out of love with Draco. "I'm so so sorry. I wish we could have lasted forever" you sobbed, he let go of you. You suddenly felt so cold. So unprotected, knowing that you would ever be in his embrace again. Knowing that he would never hold you in that same way.
"It's okay my love. I don't blame you. If I were you, I would have fallen out of love with me too. Our love had a deadline, I just didn't know how overdue it was. Just know that I will always be here for you. I will be here if you need me, if you need comfort, if he doesn't treat you right." he reassured. You nodded at him, regret and tears, rushing down your face, as you realised that you could ever replicate the same love you had with Draco. You knew no one could love you the same way he did, and you felt so ashamed of yourself for letting your heart betray you and make you fall out of love with such a beautiful yet broken boy.
"I love you Draco" you said, quietly, meaning every word.
Draco listened to your words. He knew you meant it, just not in the way he wanted you to mean it. He knew you would always love him, but the love would only ever be a memory, or a love shared between good friends once more than that.
"I know y/n" he said, his heart felt empty knowing his love was long lost. "I love you too" he gave you a small smile, watching your tear filled eyes crease as more tears ran down your cheeks.
"I hope Theo treats you better than I ever did." He walks away. So you can't see him break even more.
"I'm sure he won't"
You whispered under your breath once he was far and long gone.
---
a/n: This made me so sad:( I think I will make this a three part series, so look out for some more parts later on:) I will try make it a happy ending!
mini fic, only angst if you get it, kinda character death(?)
----------------------
The air grew cold as grey swarmed the sky. Drops of water clearing away the hurt from his face, his tears blending with the rain. Draco closed his eyes, lifting his head to face the sky. He could've been there for hours, days, before he was finally snapped out of his trance, coming face to face with the brightest smile and an umbrella over his head.
Y/n walked down the sidewalk, stomping her rain boots in every puddle she came across. The jacket around her swallowing her whole as she walked to the cemetery, handpicked flowers clutched in her hands. Y/n looked around at all the graves without flowers as she set out, placing a small bundle of daisies at each one.
A figure standing in the rain caught her attention. His blonde hair slicked back by the water, his face sad. Y/n frowned, furrowing her eyebrows in thought before walking up to him, raising her umbrella to his height, taking a second to look at his beautiful features before the man looked down, his eyes focusing on the small smile on her face.
Y/n held up a bundle of daisies, urging him to take it, the smile on her face growing the longer she looked at him. He took the small flowers in his large hand, smiling at the kindness the girl had shown him.
Draco picked a flower out of the bundle and tucked it behind the girl's ear, moving her hair out of her face with it. She smiled, reaching up to hold is hand in place against her face. Draco's ears turned a bright shade of pink at the action, his cheeks warm.
The girl looked around for a moment at all the graves, grabbing his hand and placing the handle of the umbrella in it. She leaned up slowly, placing a small kiss to his cheek before walking away, slowly disappearing into the wind.
Draco wiped his tears as he touched his cheek, wishing he got one more moment with the love of his life. If not to hold her, then to say goodbye one last time.
----------------------
If you don't understand, Y/n was already dead and this was him imagining her. I'm thinking he already had the umbrella and daisies but just didn't pay attention to them and if you're wondering why I chose daisies it's bc they're my favorite flower. I think that covered everything.
summary: hogwarts fight club mixed with some postwar ptsd and some bloodlust, emphasis on lust
word count: 3k
read on ao3!
check out my masterlist of fics, and join the taglist to be notified when i post!
Taglist: @mawofmeraxes @chimeraofchaos
Draco Malfoy’s lip was split open, his nose was dripping blood on his once-pristine tie, and his eyes were gleaming with a bloodlust Harry hadn’t seen in months. And, Harry thought, he had never looked better.
It was technically Ron’s idea to initiate Hogwarts’s first Fight Club. Having five brothers, he was used to disputes being settled with an arm wrestle or even a one-round pindown. So, when Ron and Dean were having a tiff over who got to eat the last blueberry scone at tea time, Ron suggested an arm wrestle. Winner takes the cake, literally. And, in that case, Ron took the cake. It was a simple affair, a one-and-done.
However, Seamus bet Ron that in any two out of three, his boyfriend would beat Ron’s ass. Ron, like a magical Marty McFly, could not withstand being called chicken and took the bet. The first bet started at one bronze knut. Of course, Hermione took care of the gambling mathematics, though she did so with plenty of disapproving glares at the boys. After Ron won his hard-earned knut, Neville challenged him and won Ron’s knut from there.
Susan Bones, at the Hufflepuff table, challenged Neville, but before Hermione could call the round (and, Hermione was judged to be the only person both smart enough and unbiased enough to be judge) Headmistress McGonagall shut the game down. Something about gambling or physical violence not being encouraged, Harry wasn’t really sure. He was sure that the last time all the houses had collaborated on something was for Dumbledore’s Army/ the war they had all been forced into.
So, when tea ended, Ron suggested everyone head up to the Room of Requirement to finish the Bones v. Longbottom stand-off. Everyone agreed, and when they found the room, there were bleachers and a wrestling ring waiting for them. Though Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors had come up to watch their respective champions, and a few curious Ravenclaws shuffled in, no Slytherins attended the first official match. Some people argued that they shouldn’t be invited at all, but Hermione lectured everyone with something boring about Germany after World War I, and either they understood or were too afraid to argue with her.
The next day, Malfoy showed up with Zabini. They stood in the back for all the matches, whispering to each other, and bet on nothing. Neither of them spoke to Harry, though Zabini gave him a polite nod on his way out.
One week, when there were few viewers left besides immediate friends of the fighters and, truthfully, even they had grown bored with the great sport of arm wrestling, someone suggested that they have “real” fights, though no one remembers who that was. Everyone In the room immediately shot down the idea, until Neville punched Ron (albeit, lightly) in the face, and Ron hit him back, and everyone was hooked. More people showed up, more money was bet, and more fun was had.
Harry was surprised with how fun the fighting was; he hadn’t lost a single match, though many had wanted to challenge the Chosen One. Beyond winning, though, it had been a long time since Harry did something for the fun of it - years, at least.
After a particularly good fight with Ginny, who didn’t hold punches like some of the others, Harry stepped outside the Room of Requirement for a breather only to see Malfoy leaning against the wall.
They stood quietly next to each other. Harry hadn’t talked to Malfoy since the war. The feud between them had seemingly fizzled out, and Harry didn’t know how to deal with Malfoy the person, rather than Malfoy the archenemy. Once you battle and kill the literal evilest person in the world, petty rivalries don’t seem so important.
“Do you enjoy beating up your friends?” Malfoy says stoically, unmoving from the wall.
Harry whips his head around to look at Malfoy, who seems nonchalant, but has tightly clenched, slightly shaking fists.
“It’s all in good fun.” Harry replies calmly, not matching Malfoy’s attitude. No one’s forcing him to be up here; Whatever problem he has, he can deal with on his own.
“Didn’t we all go through enough fighting?” Malfoy continues, “Aren’t you tired?”
Harry looks at Malfoy, really looks at him, for the first time since the war. He had dark circles under his eyes, and had lost weight in a way that made his cheeks look sunken in.
“Yeah, I am,” Harry replies, “But somehow, this helps. It’s… cathartic, in a way.”
Malfoy looked up at Harry, at first in confusion, then in determination. He grabbed Harry by the wrist, and pulled him back into the Room of Requirement.
“We’re next.” Malfoy announced to the room, which was met with complaints by those occupying the waiting list.
“We’re next.” Harry confirmed, to which the complainers promptly shut up.
Malfoy dropped Harry’s wrist, and then stood in the middle of the ring, looking somewhat lost. Harry followed him up and removed his outer robe, which Malfoy copied. While Harry was wearing a Gryffindor sweater to combat the winter chill, Malfoy was in his usual posh dress, vest and all.
“Do you know how to form a fist?” Harry asked, quietly. Malfoy shook his head, eyes faced towards the floor of the ring.
Harry took Malfoy’s left hand, but Malfoy immediately went stiff and shook his head.
The dark mark, Harry thought to himself.
Without saying a word, he takes Malfoy’s right hand, and pushes down all his fingers, and cages the front two in with his thumb. Malfoy copies this himself with his left hand, and Harry nods his approval.
“Ready?” Hermione calls, after collecting all the bets for the round. Both boys nod, and the room counts down from three. On one, neither boys move.
“Come on,” Harry says, with a hint of a smile, “You know you want t-”
And Malfoy’s fist comes down on Harry’s cheek, much harder than he expected. Harry looks at him in shock, and Malfoy just shrugs, a new grin on his face. Harry matches the grin, and goes for Malfoy’s solar plexus. They continue trading blows without stopping until their three minutes are up, and Hermione blows her whistle. Both boys are breathing hard, but neither of them have any visible damage. Malfoy looks exhilarated, but after a couple of seconds he runs out of the ring to the trash can that just appeared in the corner of the room, and releases the majority of his stomach contents.
“Looks like Harry wins,” Hermione says lightly, and cheers go up from around the room.
Harry just makes his way over to Malfoy, who is shaking slightly in the corner, but is otherwise okay.
“Give me a second, and I’ll shake your hand like a proper good sport.” Malfoy says good-naturedly.
“That’s okay, mate” Harry grins, “You’ll have a chance when I beat you again.”
Malfoy chuckles, but then retches again into the trash bin. Harry is hesitant, but he slides onto the floor next to Malfoy and rubs his back lightly. He tenses up at first, but then melts into Harry’s touch. They sit like that for the rest of the day’s matches.
Hermione schedules Harry in to fight Malfoy once a week. Their second fight goes pretty much the same as the first, with Malfoy excavating his guts as soon as the time is up.
“If you want to have a chance at beating me, you have to take care of yourself.” Harry says to Draco, sitting beside him once again.
“I do!” Malfoy says crossly, but this is such an obvious lie that Harry does not feel the need to point it out.
“Tomorrow. 6am, Forbidden Forest. I need a jogging partner.”
Malfoy looks like he wants to protest, but he just shrugs his shoulders. Harry sighs, but doesn’t leave Malfoy’s side.
Harry gets to the forest at 6, fully expecting Malfoy to no-show, but he’s already there, the tips of his nose and ears already showing pink.
Malfoy gives Harry a small smile, makes Harry’s stomach do this funny flip-flopping thing that he decidedly ignores.
They start jogging together down Harry’s usual trail, and they almost fall into silence when Harry starts to recount the story of Aragog to Malfoy. He’s a good listener, asking engaging questions and making the appropriate reactions to Harry’s story. He then tells his own story, of an awful detention served in the forest. The two boys trade stories like this for the entire run, and they almost can’t believe it when it’s time to head back to the school for breakfast. When they get to the Great Hall, Draco makes to go to the Slytherin table when Harry asks, “Stay with me?”
Draco looks hesitant, but nods in agreement, and Harry gives him a grateful smile. They head to the Gryffindor table, where Hermione looks at Harry approvingly, and Ron is too busy eating to notice anything amiss.
At first, he just sits there, taking in the Gryffindors’ conversations. Harry stares at Draco until he picks up the nearest thing, a blueberry muffin, and puts it on his plate. He continues to watch Draco, who looks Harry in the eyes for every single bite he takes. Once the last of the muffin is gone, Harry awards Draco with a quick side-squeeze of a hug. Draco wasn’t expecting that, but he leans into it.
“Hey, when did Malfoy get here?” Ron asks, mouth half full.
Harry and Draco look at each other, and break out into laughter - neither of them note it, but it’s the first time they laugh together.
The sixth fight is the first one that Draco gets through without getting sick. At the end, he looks out of breath and completely soaked with sweat, but he stands tall.
“I’m proud of you,” Harry murmurs in his ear, and Draco blushes deeply as Harry is declared the winner once again.
Every day, they jog together, they eat meals together, and they learn more about each other than they have in the past seven years.
Their eighth and last year at Hogwarts is more than two-thirds over, and not everyone handles it well. The Slytherins throw nightly ragers that blend into one another, the parties bleeding over into one another until they’re indistinguishable. After a class ends, there’s always an inevitable straggler who sits in the classroom, staring at the familiar walls and imprinting them to memory.
Harry and Draco sometimes stay in the Forbidden Forest long past when they’re done jogging, and talk about their plans for the future.
“You know, I always wanted to be a healer,” Draco reveals one day, leaning against Harry as they sit before their favorite oak tree.
“Healer Malfoy,” Harry tries the title out on his tongue, and Draco smiles, those smiles that have become less of a rarity and more habit.
Harry doesn’t know what he’ll do after Hogwarts. Of course, Hermione has her twenty year plan, and Ron would follow her anywhere. When it had been time to study for Owls and to pick a career path, Harry was sure he would die in service to the wizarding world, but mostly Dumbledore. Now that Dumbledore was gone, and the war definitively over, Harry wasn’t sure what to do with himself.
“You could become a Healer, with me!” Draco suggests one day, and Harry laughs at the idea. He never excelled at school, not really, not beyond what was expected, and he wouldn’t want to go into the career knowing he could be nothing more than average.
“You could stay here,” McGonagall suggests to him one day, but Harry knows that isn’t right either.
As Draco gets stronger, and the boys become more comfortable with one another, their fights become more brutal. They really let loose, their anger and frustration and confusion all coming out and being laid bare.
It’s the day of their last fight of the year, and they are the first to arrive at the Room of Requirement, just as they planned. They sit in the back of the empty bleachers, waiting.
“I guess this is it,” Harry says, somewhat awkwardly. He doesn’t know what to do. He never does, not when it counts.
Draco says nothing, and just sits there with Harry until the crowds appear. He’s been getting dangerously close to beating Harry, so the bets are more varied now, meaning more money for the winner.
Finally, the crowds arrive. Harry and Draco are the last fight of the day, and they watch the other matches together, still in silence.
“Talk to me, Draco,” Harry says almost pleadingly.
“I -” Draco swallows thickly. He doesn’t answer any further. He has that defensive sneer back on his face, the one he hasn’t shown since they were kids who had to be brave.
Harry doesn’t press him any further, but sneaks his hand into Draco’s when he’s sure everyone else is concentrating on the fight. Draco doesn’t hold Harry’s hand, not really, but he doesn’t let him go, either.
By the last match before theirs, though, Draco is gripping Harry’s hand so hard that it’s turned bone white.
When it’s their turn to fight, Draco lets go of Harry’s hand quickly, as if shocked that he’s still holding on. Draco walks up to the ring, back stiff, and ignores the cheers and taunts of the crowd. Harry does the same, solely focused on Draco. He’s not alright, Harry can tell that much. If only he knew how to fix it, he would, he would. But Harry’s not sure he can, anymore.
He’s about to call off the fight when Hermione starts the match and Draco throws a punch that hits him squarely in the cheekbone. And it stings. But Harry doesn’t move, just looks at Draco, worrying.
“Fight me, Potter,” Draco says, through gritted teeth, “It’s a fight. Hit me, for Salazar’s Sake!” By the end, Draco was shouting through a silent room.
“Why should I?” Harry asks, carefully. If Draco shows any hint of breaking, he’ll walk out, possibly dragging a kicking and screaming Draco behind him.
“I was told this was supposed to be cathartic,” And Draco grins, and it’s wild, and it’s terrifying, and it’s beautiful. “Give me your catharsis, Harry,”
And then the fight, the one they’ve been waiting for all their lives, finally starts. It’s not just fists, but hands and claws and teeth. Draco kicks at Harry’s shin, sending him to his knees. Harry looks up at him like he’s at the altar and Draco is his god, his beautiful god who is striking him down for all the sins he hasn’t committed yet. Harry pulls at Draco’s vest, dragging the boy down to his level, and reverse slams him to the ground. He cradles Draco’s head as they both fall and twists so that Draco is underneath him. Once Draco is pinned to the ground beneath him, Harry is able to land punch after punch before Draco is able to catch his arm and yank him down. Draco bites the muscle between Harry’s shoulder and when he is released, Harry can see the gleam of his own blood on Draco’s teeth.
The three minute timer rings unnoticed.
All their fears about the future, their bitterness, their repentance, their sorrow, is lost in the fight. Perhaps lost isn’t the right word - it’s shared between them, given as gifts and burdens that both boys are fighting to hold up, alone. Two Atlases, holding up the same world, learning to share the burden.
Finally, Harry collapses in a corner, Draco kneeling between his thighs and holding Harry’s face between his hands.
Draco Malfoy’s lip was split open, his nose was dripping blood on his once-pristine tie, and his eyes were gleaming with a bloodlust Harry hadn’t seen in months. And, Harry thought, he had never looked better.
No one is declared a winner. The crowds shuffle out slowly, ushered by Hermione, who checks the boys quickly for concussions before exiting herself.
“I know what you did,” Draco pants, still holding onto Harry as if scared he’ll run away (which Harry does not possess the strength to do, even if he wanted to. He doesn’t want to, for the record.)
“It was going to be a surprise. Tonight. At my victory party.” Somehow, Harry manages a crooked grin, though it hurts to do so.
“You bought Malfoy Manor.” Harry had bought the mansion weeks ago, with the winnings from his weekly fights. He told no one, though less so because of the surprise factor and more so that he was scared Draco would reject it. Most people don’t want to live in their childhood home forever, but after being orphaned during the war, Harry figured Draco would want some semblance of his parents around him.
“For you. For us. I was thinking we could be … roommates, or something,” Harry managed to stutter out. Draco doesn’t say anything, so Harry continues, panicking.
“Or I could just, you could live alone? I don’t mean to force my way, I mean, it’s completely up to you. I just wanted to- “
Draco kisses Harry then, moving his hands from Harry’s cheekbones to his jaw to his neck. On Harry’s part, he can’t move much, or even sit up straight, but he kisses back with all the force he possesses. Harry can taste his own blood in Draco’s mouth, and it only pushes him further.
Maybe they’ve jumped off a cliff they can’t return from, but if so they both jumped too long ago to even regret the choice.
“You bought me a house.” Draco says, as soon as he’s able to separate himself from Harry.
“I bought you a house.” And they both laugh at the absurdity of it, the certainty and uncertainty baked into the action.
“Stay with me,” Draco whispers into Harry’s neck, and Harry nods and holds Draco tighter than he’s ever dared to before.
This is written for the prompt ‘fool’ from @drarrymicrofic
Word count: 50 (!!)
Drarry microfic: a fool in love
Cw: slight homophobia
“You’re a fool to think that man will ever love you more than the perfect woman could do, son!” his father exclaimed as Draco fled the room, hot tears prickling in the corners of his eyes.
His father was wrong. Harry could love him more than anyone had ever done.
