Ive Recently Been Debating If I Love Remus Lupin Or James Potter More, And I Feel Like Thats A Problem

i’ve recently been debating if i love remus lupin or james potter more, and i feel like that’s a problem that sirius black would have

Rupert Grint constantly wearing Harry Potter related shirts is the best thing ever

draco: when i said ‘bring me back something from the beach’, i meant like a seashell

harry, struggling to hold onto a seagull: well you didn’t fucking say that

Slytherin!Harry in every year

manips by me

The Story of a Lifetime

Harry smiled to himself as he strolled down the aisles of books, the feeling of content blooming in his chest. The smell of paperbacks, the morning sun pouring through the windows, the sense of time growing and slipping away all at once; this is why Harry loved this place. Sirius and Remus’ bookshop was filled with a sort of magic that Harry hadn’t found anywhere else.

As Harry walked, his eyes caught on a brightly coloured book and he found himself reaching out for it. He pulled it from the shelf and his heart stopped. Not due to the contents of the blurb or the title of the book, but because of the man standing on the other side of the shelves. The man with soft blond hair that fell into his eyes. The man with pale skin that glowed in the morning sunlight. The man who looked like he had just fallen from one of the stories on these shelves.

Harry thought he belonged in one of those ancient Greek books; he looked like a god.

Harry’s grip on the book slipped. It fell to the ground with a crash and landed hard on Harry’s toes.

“Fuck!” He hissed, wincing as he bent down to pick the book from the floor. He then proceeded to bang his head against a shelf on the way up, lose his balance and end up sprawled on the dusty wooden floor.

Harry could feel bruises blooming in at least seven places.

“Are you always this clumsy? Or is this just a one-time thing?”

Harry opened his eyes and saw the blond man from before looming over him, an amused yet concerned expression on his face. Harry didn’t think embarrassed covered what he was feeling in that moment.

His cheeks bloomed a deep red. “Y-yes,” he managed to stutter.

“To always being this clumsy?” The man offered his hand and Harry took it, noticing how soft it felt within his own.

“Yes. This is a regular occurrence.” Harry stood up and brushed himself down, trying not to notice how close he was to the taller man.

“You should wear a helmet. Don’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours.”

Harry’s head snapped up and when he saw the slow smirk on the other man’s face, he felt his cheeks warm. He probably looked like a tomato right now.

The other man offered a hand. “My name’s Draco. Draco Malfoy.” 

Draco. Harry was becoming more and more convinced that this guy was some sort of god. His name sounded like it anyway.

“Harry. I’m Harry. Harry Potter.” He shook Draco’s hand and again revelled in the feeling of their palms touching, the softness of it. 

“Well Harry,” Draco started, turning away. Harry’s name sounded so much better coming out of his mouth. “I better get going. I hope to see you again. Oh, and don’t go running into any more shelves.”

“I only really do that when good-looking blond guys are around,” Harry said, almost regretting it until he saw the surprised grin on Draco’s face. 

As he watched Draco leave the shop, his blond hair burning bright in the sun, Harry knew that those soft hands and that gentle smile would be the only thing on his mind for a long time.

———-

“May I sit here?”

Harry glanced up and almost choked on the muffin in his mouth. The little cafe was filled with people reading, the smell of coffee and tea radiating across the room, and Draco Malfoy was standing above Harry, a coffee in hand and a gentle smile on his face.

It had only been a week and somehow he looked even more gorgeous.

“Oh, y-yes. Of course,” Harry stuttered, pulling his belongings closer to him so that Draco could set his stuff down. He noticed that they were multiple empty tables around them and his chest bloomed.

“I see you didn’t take my advice of wearing a helmet,” Draco teased, his grey eyes bright.

Harry tried not to stare at where Draco’s turtle neck stopped and his pale skin began.

“My hair already looks bad enough as it is. A helmet would just make it worse.”

Draco reached out and brushed a strand of Harry’s hair behind his ear, his touch careful and light. Harry stopped breathing.

“I like your hair,” he said softly, meeting Harry’s gaze. They were inches from each other and Harry could see the little silver flecks in Draco’s eyes, the small scar on his cheek.

Draco’s face was a story and Harry to trace the lines with his fingertips, wanted to learn the words and sentences that combined to make him.

Draco’s face was a story and Harry wanted to read all of it.

Their heads stayed close for a moment, before Draco swallowed and pulled away. Harry wished he hadn’t.

“What’s the book you’re reading?” Harry nodded to the book on the table.

“Oh, I don’t think you would like it. It’s a romance.”

“What’s wrong with romance?”

“Nothing,” Draco shrugged. “It’s just that most guys aren’t that into it.”

“Well, I love it. It’s much more interesting than some book about cars.”

The surprised grin on Draco’s face from before was back and Harry would do anything to see it again and again. 

“The book is Jane Eyre. It’s amazing so far. Aside from Mr Rochester. He’s just a dickhead.”

“Well, I suppose I should read it then,” Harry said.

Draco smiled a small smile and Harry saw the world unfold within it.

“I suppose you should.” 

———-

Harry’s mind was full of blond hair and grey eyes and gentle touches as he sat on the window-seat in the bookshop a few days later. Remus and Sirius had made a few comments about his more frequent visits recently but hadn’t asked outright. They both knew they wouldn’t get an answer.

Wuthering Heights sat on Harry’s lap and the evening sun was dimming with every minute. He had charged over to the shop as soon as he had finished his class at uni and had been waiting for Draco on the off chance that Draco might show up. They had spoken for hours that day in the cafe and Harry was left wanting to know more about the story of Draco Malfoy than ever before.

“Hello, Harry.”

The familiar voice had Harry grinning before he even looked up. 

“Hi, Draco.”

Draco smiled. “Would you like to join me on my adventure to find a book?”

Harry stood up, stuffing the book into his bag. “Of course. What book is it?”

“Wide Sargasso Sea. I’ve already looked around and I can’t see it anywhere.”

“It might be in the back. Remus told me they got a delivery today.” Harry took Draco’s hand in his and pulled him in the direction of the storeroom.

Bolts of electricity shot up from where Draco’s skin connected with his.

“Remus?” Draco asked. His voice was tighter than before.

“He’s my godfather’s husband. They own this place.” Harry opened the door to the store and turned on the light. 

The room was dusty and illuminated only by a warm light in the centre of the room. Harry directed Draco through piles and piles of books, their hands never parting.

Draco stopped. “Here it is,” he said softly.

Harry turned. Draco’s free hand was atop the pile of books but he didn’t reach for one. Instead, he cupped Harry’s cheek and pulled him closer with their clasped hands.

Harry’s heart squeezed when he looked up to meet Draco’s gaze. He looked beautiful in this light, his eyes bright and the warm glow making his face soft. Time seemed to be a useless thing in this place because when their lips met Harry felt like he had both been waiting forever for this and no time at all.

The books had lied. There were no trumpets playing when they kissed, no metaphorical fireworks bursting around them, no angels singing from the heavens.

There was only this.

Their lips meeting again and again. Time slowly slipping away. Hearts thundering loudly in their chest.

There was only this.

Harry learning the whispers of Draco’s heart through his mouth. Words that couldn’t be said being read from lips. Hands tracing bodies like words in a book.

There was only this.

In a room full of stories, one began.

Claus-trophobic

(( OOC: Based on this text post. Peter played by @sirussly ))