So Beautiful

So beautiful 💜

Blunt-Forced Drama

It started innocently enough. In May, Potter invited their entire graduating class to a house-warming party at 12 Grimmauld.

Being the gracious guest he was, Draco arrived an hour late with a bottle of wine, two tins of pre-rolls, and a scented candle that claimed to be "woodsy".

Being the highly-distractible, schedule-free dynasty heir he also was, he arrived on a Tuesday evening. Four days after the party.

Potter shrugged and ushered him in, through the house to the patio. The chair cushions smelled like mildew, but neither of them cared. He lit the candle, then lit a joint off the candle by the time Draco realized they were alone, but that was alright. Preferable, even.

Potter was different away from people. Weirder. He was downright funny after half a bottle of wine, and peculiarly sober when he chased it with most of a joint.

"Did you ever wonder if matter stays still, and our consciousness just moves through it like fingers strumming a harp?"

"Stands to reason, Potty."

Draco, on the other hand, was borderline ridiculous, and moderately obsessed with implausible scenarios and how to handle them. When sober, he'd deny having a rampant anxiety disorder.

"What if my face just... fell right off. Right now. What would you do?"

"Suppose I'd pick it up," Potter said, taking a long swig from the bottle. "But I'd probably put it on my face, take a selfie, then wash it off and give it back to you."

Draco mumbled around the filter of a joint he had to look at with one eye to light. "Generous of you."

It became a regularity.

"Did I miss the party?" Draco would ask, libations raised in offering.

"I don't know. Did you?"

"I've never mourned the loss of a social function in my life, Potter."

The patio furniture paint started to flake off sometime in July, but that was alright. Potter left the candle out in the rain, and Draco made a note to himself to replace it with a candle that actually smelled like a thunderstorm.

"What if the stars all collapsed into black holes? Just... boom."

"Even the sun?"

"Well, except the sun."

"Probably wouldn't affect Earth for a few million years. But then you'd be named after nothing."

"True."

Harry extinguished a blunt on his tongue and rubbed the ash against the roof of his mouth.

"Universal ultimate goal..."

"Yeah?"

"...for everybody..."

"Mm hm."

"....is to become who you needed."

Draco's head lolled back over the chair, and he pretended to see the stars through the humid streetlight haze.

"Go on."

"I needed somebody to, like, save me, right?"

"Uh huh. Cupboard."

"So I became 'The Saviour'."

"So... I needed... a socialite burnout?"

Harry picked the cork apart with a thumbnail onto the scalloped glass table.

"Nah. You just... you see people. Cuz nobody ever saw you."

Draco frowned at the stars hiding behind the veil of light pollution. He took a breath to ask Harry what that meant, but Harry cut him off with a soft snore. Draco blew the candle out and went home.

Harry never minded a little rain, and Draco didn't mind the humidity.

Draco shook the lighter, flicked it, and drew a slow breath. "What if you lost all your money?"

"I'd be a librarian."

"Hm," Draco hummed around a joint. "That might be nice. Wonder what I'd do."

An animal chittered in a tree, and Harry unscrewed the cap on the bottle. "You'd make wands."

"I'd make great wands."

Harry liked tart wine and indica, and Draco liked the random shit that came out of Harry's mouth.

"I hope there's no afterlife," Harry muttered into the bottleneck. "Sounds exhausting."

Draco sprawled out on a chaise lounge that smelled like wet dirt, tried to blow a smoke ring, and failed miserably.

"I thought you already died."

Harry upended the bottle and caught the last few drops on his tongue.

"Could've been a hallucination."

"What if this is a hallucination?"

"You'd tell me."

"Cuz I see people."

"Yeah, but not like in that movie. You just, like, get people." Harry's chair scraped against the patio, and he flopped down on the damp cushions next to Draco. "What did you get Parkinson for her birthday?"

"Nothing. She only wants things she needs, and she didn't need anything."

"See? What did you get me for my birthday?"

Draco tapped ash onto the ground and stuck the blunt between Harry's lips. "That candle, but that was more for me."

"See? It's perfect."

Draco curled up against Harry and sighed. "What's perfect?"

"You got me the gift of you smelling the candle."

"Didn't even wrap it."

"I hate wrapping."

"Me, too."

Harry drew a breath through Draco's hair. "I like watching you smell the candle."

"Mm."

"It's supposed to rain soon."

Draco pressed numb teeth against his lips against Harry's shoulder.

"What if I just bit you?"

"I'd let you." Harry stubbed the blunt out on the patio.

"Maybe I will."

"Yeah?"

Harry dipped his chin and pressed his nose between Draco's eyebrows.

"Mm hm," Draco hummed against Harry's chin.

They smelled rain, then heard it, then felt the patter of it against their clothes. It dripped down Draco's hair.

Harry's bottom lip slid between Draco's teeth, and he sucked it in on a relieved gasp. The storm-scented candle sputtered out, and neither of them noticed.

i will admit that i'm still pissed at draco!bottom stans because of the horrid things they said in the comment section of ao3 harry!bottom fics. i feel incredibly bad for all the writers who received death threats, hurtful slurs thrown at them etc. but to base a few idiotic people on the whole fandom and sending others more hurtful things and death threats and all that over again is too much. thank you for speaking out on it.

I'm much glad to have spoken up on it. I wish I could add more but over the span of few days I think I've said a lot about it and this specific message has gotten slightly old and the matter have died out a little.

Thank you for the support though.

1st September 1991

Guess what I'm doing today - reading @drarrily-we-row-along 💜💜

Day 96: Bargain

"Two for one coffees," the barista said, "A bargain for you and your boyfriend," he added winking at Harry.

Draco felt his face heat up and was sure that his cheeks were beet red.

"Perfect," Harry replied. "I take mine black and he takes his with two creams, three sugars, and a dash of cinnamon."

The barista, Matt according to his name tag, smiled, "You got it."

As he went to preparing their coffees Draco glared at Harry and said, "Why do you always do that?"

"What?" Harry asked, amusement crystal clear in his voice. "Order you your coffee the way you actually like it and not the way you think is respectable?" he asked, grinning cheekily at Draco.

Damn him for knowing that. "No," he said. "You never correct people."

"About what?" Harry asked.

"You know what," Draco replied.

"Here we are," Matt said, "One coffee black, the other with two creams, three sugars, and a pinch of cinnamon."

"Dash of cinnamon," Harry teased the man sliding their coffees across the counter. "Thank you," he said, "How much do we owe you?"

"Eleven sickles," he replied.

Harry handed over a galleon, "Keep the change," he said. "Have a nice day," he added, handing Draco his coffee.

"You didn't have to do that," Draco said as they started back out of the shop, "Again."

(Read more below the cut)

Harry chuckled, "I don't mind."

"I can buy my own coffee, you know," he said as he took a sip.

"But you always order it wrong and then you spend the rest of the day grouchy," Harry replied, taking a sip of his perfectly respectable black coffee. "It's for my own good."

"I don't order my coffee wrong," he grumbled.

"You do, too!" he exclaimed. "You order your coffee with one cream and then you make that face every time you take a sip." He nudged him with his shoulder and Draco's stomach flipped, "And, I'll repeat, you spend the rest of the way grumpy."

He huffed but couldn't actually find it in himself to be annoyed. "But seriously," he said, switching back, "Why don't you ever correct people?"

"Are you really not going to let that go?"

"Harry," he said, grabbing his wrist and making him stop.

"Does it matter?" he asked, not quite meeting Draco's eye.

"Yes."

Harry looked up at him for a moment before looking back down, "Well it's a bit easier, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Not getting hit on everywhere," he said with a shrug.

He felt like his heart turned to ice and shattered. "Right," he said, releasing his hold on Harry's wrist. "Right. Of course," he said as he started past Harry.

"Draco," Harry called, following behind him, jogging a few paces to catch up. "Draco-"

"No. It's fine," he said, taking a sip of his coffee and realizing that it tasted like ash in his mouth. "I asked."

"Draco," Harry said, reaching out to take hold of Draco's hand. "Wait. Please."

"What?" he asked, spinning around and looking at Harry.

Harry rubbed that back of his neck, "That's not actually why."

Draco raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Are you really going to make me say it?" he asked. When Draco said nothing Harry blurted, "Fine! I like you, okay? Is that what you wanted me to say? Now you can go ahead and tell me what a complete moron I am, thinking that you could ever-"

Draco kissed him. Right there in the middle of the sidewalk on the way to the Ministry. He pulled back before Harry had a chance to react.

Harry blinked at him, "You kissed me!"

"Well spotted."

"Why?" Harry asked as though the answer wasn't obvious to him.

"It seemed like the fastest way to make you stop talking."

He stared at him, "But-"

Draco kissed him again, "There are no buts," he said. "You sound like an insane person." He slid his fingers through Harry's and started off toward work once more. "As though anyone wouldn't like you."

"But you're not just anyone," Harry said, tugging Draco's hand until he stopped and looked at him again. "I'm serious about you Draco."

"As am I," he replied, feeling steady in a way that he wouldn't have imagined he might at confessing something of this magnitude.

"Yeah?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Draco replied, leaning in to place one more soft kiss on Harry's lips. "Now, let's get a move on before we're late for work."

And if they both walked in with big, ridiculous smiles on their faces, well, no one could say they hadn't seen this coming.

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Day 95: Petty Fighting | Day 97: Mine and Dark

i don’t think my teachers understand i have an unpopular blog to run

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