Chaptered - Tumblr Posts

Of Fire and Love

(Dragon! Min Yoongi x Human Reader)  (ft. Baby Jungkook + Baby Dragon! Hoseok) 

Summary: When Dragon Yoongi finds baby Jungkook in the wreckage of a house he burned down, he can’t bring himself to kill the child. Months after someone drops a baby at your door, you start to notice something- or someone, lurking at the edge of your farm. Why does the man you catch glimpses of have horns?

Tags: sort of medieval times, mentions of death/murder (both humans and dragons, other mentions of magical creatures, baby Jungkook domesticity, fluff, brief sickfic. 

W/c: 6.8K 

A/n:  so here you go, baby dragon hoseok is not in this part- but he is in the next one. I love dragons! and I love yoongi! so yeah! partially inspired by comic i saw with dragon yoongi and knight hoseok so if anyone finds it please let me know! 

- Though Yoongi is a Solitary dragon, he still has a fair amount of interaction with the dragon community, so when small settlements go missing, or there is an isolated attack on a nests and others of his kind are in need someone with finesse for fire breathing- Yoongi comes and helps. 

- The Human vs. Dragon war is as old as time. And Yoongi is no stranger to the violence- his own family was killed hundreds of years ago by a human raid- though the war has changed since then, dragons have been pushed to the edges of the world or been made to hide in some places. There are even standing truces between some kingdoms and any dragons that might be passing through. 

- He has enough interaction and care for his own kind that he cares when he finds a nest ransacked. Cursing humanity and acting instinctually, he begins to hunt the humans that have done this.

- Yoongi had tracked the scent of death to a small mountainside community- he’d flown over the old cabins and seen the fresh fletchling dragon skins hanging out to cure and started killing indiscriminately. The light of dawn was cresting over the mountains when Yoongi starts to spit his hot blue fire into the buildings.

- Yoongi walks through the wreckage of the houses he’s just burned. The rage inside of him winking out as the last life did. His long cloak rustling in the ashes as he shifts to his human form once his temper cools checking for signs of life and finding none. 

- And then a high-pitched keen, crying, underneath the wreckage of a house as the rain starts up. The baby is small but healthy as Yoongi pulls him out from underneath the wreckage, with little more than a scratch on his cheek that looks a little deep and little tears beading at the edge of large brown eyes. Yoongi doesn’t know much about human children, but if he had to guess, he’s probably older than 6 months but younger than a year. Still immobile and unable to care for himself.  

- There is a name embroidered on the edge of the torn red blanket that swaths the baby, half soaked with mud. ‘Jungkook’ it reads, fine bronze thread against the dull red. A first name or a last name- Yoongi doesn’t know. 

- The weight of the babe calms in his arms, it starts to rain, and Yoongi finds himself curled over the tope of him and shielding his face from it. He can’t find it in himself to kill the child and save him the misery of starving to death. Despite the fact that this small family of warriors had killed countless of Yoongi’s kind and all for the more malleable young dragon skins- different than the rough hide of older dragons that could not be made into fireproof clothing- this child has done nothing, taken part in no such acts of violence. 

- But the baby- Jungkook - is an unintended consequence of Yoongi’s rage, and likely- his relatives, and simultaneously Yoongi does not want him to secum to startvation like he would if yoongi left him to die and yet cannot take care of him. Yoongi is a dragon- and cannot take care of a human child.

- It almost feels like something deep within him whispers to his fire filled heart, maybe not words, but definitely, something that tells him not to leave the child to die. 

Keep reading

Dance To This

(Hybrid! Seokjin x Blind! Reader x Hybrid! Namjoon)

W/C: 14.8k

TAGS: Eventual polyamory, Blindness, Service hybrid au, non-explicit sex, non-physical intimacy, mentions of anxiety and depression,

A/N: This is so long wow! sorry it took me longer than i thought to get this out. namjoon dosent come in until the end of this but he’ll be in the next one. Also theres a bit of a social media au in this one! if you like this- please consider donateing to my patreon here!

(This is so fucking self indulgent I love it.)

- Seokjin was the runt of his litter from a prized show hybrid, he’d never met his mother- but everyone has always told him how much he looked like her; from his plump lips to his long limbs. 

- The only thing he lacked was her grace- which happened to be his downfall. 

- He was the only one out of his siblings that hadn’t been sold off by the age of 8. Seokjin lacked grace on the runway, often tripping over the carpet on his way in, his shoulders so wide that every single swivel seemed to lumber. 

- Which is why- despite the fact that he was quite good looking, With silky black ears and a shiny tail that he kept meticulously groomed- he was sent to an adoption agency once he reached the age where it became apparent he was no longer going to be a show hybrid.  

- Deemed UN showable by his first owner at the young age of 10- it only went downhill from there. 

- He was adopted by another show couple, and then sent back when he tripped during a competition. 

- And then he was sent to another show couple. And then returned for a third time after an incident evolving another show hybrid who Seokjin had accidentally stepped on- crippling him for the next competition. 

- He’d been banned from all competitions after that. A laughing stock, his dreams crushed into dust. It had been a mercy almost- to be transported 2 city’s over to one of the largest adoption facilities in the country just shy of his 21st birthday. 

- He didn’t mind the facility really- they taught them how to accomplish basic skills that they might be expected to do: like laundry and cleaning- things that Seokjin already knew how to do as a runt working in the show industry.

- Since He was one of the older hybrids at the facility he often helped take care of the little ones, looking after them just to pass the time- playing games with them and even staging a small fashion show every now and then in the communal playroom (of course with the consent of the caretakers.)

- The worst thing about the facility was their lack of outside time, though they always had excess to the outdoor play areas and were often taken out on walks they tried to limit their exposure to the real world as much as possible. The only time they really went out into society was to school visits and occasional PR stunts. 

- At the facility, hybrids were grouped by age, and when he first got there he was one of 10 in the 18+ grouping. As years passed, that group shrunk significantly- until it was just him, just Seokjin in the older hybrids group. alone in his room full of empty bunk beds. 

- It seemed like he would never get adopted. In the many years, he had cut himself off from the others a little bit, tired of the emotional trauma of having his friends whisked away never to see them again. 

- A month before he turned 25, he was helping one of the hybrid children get ready for adoption, He overheard a conversation between two of the head caretakers that he had known for years. 

- They were the ones that usually dealt with adoptions, and they’d personally overseen every failed meeting Seokjin had ever had with potential owners. it had been a few months since anyone had come to see him. 

- “I hear there’s this breeding operation up north- we should call them and see if they want him, he is a purebred after all” and that was the last thing he wanted. The absolute last- possibility he would accept. He’d left and spent the rest of the day at the edge of the outside play area, looking over the hill and into the city, and refused to come back inside until they came and got him. 

- He was too old to be adopted into a normal family now, he was too old- most parents looked for hybrids in the same age as their child (usually there was only one due to low birthrates) to be a companion for them and make the house seem more joyful and less empty. 

- Only as the child grew and went off to school the hybrid remained as a second-class citizen, with few more rights than a house pet. There where even colleges that advertised hybrid friendly dorms as an incentive for prospective students. 

- But now Seokjin was the same age as most college graduates. 

- Every morning he woke with fear thinking that maybe today would be the day he was sold off as a stud, shivering as he thought about it. He had heard about the breeding operations- how they treated hybrids like little more than cattle. 

- All these years without a home had Seokjin wondering if maybe he just wasn’t meant for that cozy life. A house with a family and laps to sit on and people to pet his ears. A warm body next to his to cuddle at night, someone to look after him and make sure he was taking care of himself. 

- He wanted someone to take care of him and to be able to take care of them in return. 

- But Part of him knew he wanted more for himself than just that, but he was a hybrid- and hybrid were only meant to be pets after all.  

- But it didn’t seem like that was in the cards for him, to be a house pet- in the low moments of despair he poured over every mistake he’d made, how he stuttered the last time someone had come to look him over for adoption. How maybe he’d smiled a little too wide, showed his canines a little much. 

- Maybe he wasn’t pretty anymore, maybe he wouldn’t even be any good at loving someone and they could tell just by looking at him. 

- Maybe he just wasn’t worth a home. 

- So when they call him into a meeting room- soft with light yellow walls and couches and a wide wooden table, he thinks the two head caretakers are going to try and break the news to him gently.

- “There is someone who wants to come to meet you today Seokjin, she’s a little bit unconventional as far as potential owners go, but we considered you because of your age and temperament.”

- Seokjin doesn’t know what he’s expecting, maybe an elderly woman, Seokjin might not mind an old lady as an owner. It might be fun, but then if they died in a few years he might just end up back here and even more UN-adoptable than before. 

- Or maybe it was a hopelessly unsociable mid 30′s woman- but then they might end up lonely and horrible for other reasons, forcing him into bed when he didn’t want to which might have been just as bad as being a stud. 

- Maybe they’d be someone horrible- but he swallows back his nervousness and reminded himself that anything would be better than the breeding operation. 

- So when they lead you through the door, a young woman wearing a light grey sweater and a pair of ripped jeans, He’s more than a little surprised.

- His breath tightens in his chest. Because he didn’t expect someone like you- someone who looked so young, you must have been at least a few years younger than him.  

- He didn’t expect to feel drawn to you like this. There was something beautiful about you that made Seokjin’s heart pulsate in his ears like thunder and his hands begin to sweat. 

- Your features, which would separately have been plain, but when combined formed something like a masterpiece. His tail swished back and forth as he breathed in your sweet scent- something like spring mixed with vanilla. 

- He didn’t expect to take in your every movement- He watches the way you wind the handle of your walking cane over your hands in a way that seems inherently nervous. Staring straight ahead with these listless but cloudy eyes, managing to look shy, like you can feel his eyes on you. 

- Seokjin didn’t expect his new potential owner to be blind.

Keep reading

Dance To This: Part 2

(Hybrid! Namjoon x Hybrid! Seokjin x Blind! Reader) (Service Hybrid Au) (Social Media Au) (Polyamory au!)

SUMMARY: If loving you was as easy as breathing for Seokjin, than loving Namjoon is instinct, the need and want for the younger man burns through him like sunlight at golden hour. 

W/C: 8.0k

TAGS: Polyamory, social media au, lots of fluff and snuggling, Domestic love, Brief implicit sexual content, mentions of depression.

A/N: So dance to this part two ended up being over 18k in my drafts so I decided to split it into two parts, The third and final part will be out in a few weeks) Please enjoy this self-indulgent fluff and stay tuneeeddd~

BEFORE 

- And by the end of dinner Seokjin is making hot chocolate with marshmallows and before Namjoon knows it he’s falling asleep next to you on the couch while a movie plays in the distance, lulled to sleep by the gentle breathing of the two of you curled next to him as his head nudges onto your shoulder.

- You raise your hand and run it through his supper soft ears that are somewhat bristly at the ends. Fingering over the cleft in his side. Seokjin watches your expression, the way you seem to melt under the easy and deep breaths of the sleeping hybrid, and the way he’s melting into you, adorable dimples popping out as he smiles in his sleep.

- “Can we keep him Jin? Don’t you think it would be better if he stayed?” Seokjin reaches out his hand to thumb across the hybrids cheek. He’s so deeply asleep Seokjin could probably yell and the other wouldn’t wake.

- “Of course I do.”

NOW

- The next morning you and seokjin are woken up by a heavy crash, blearily moving awake to rub at the crust on your eyes, Seokjin springs up and says he’ll go and see what the issue is and he finds Namjoon sleepily attempting to wipe up a broken coffee mug with his bare hands. 

- “What are you doing? You could cut yourself!” Seokjin screeches. Namjoon flushed and shyly lets Seokjin clean it up with a broom and a dustpan while he stammers an apology. 

- Over the next few days, that occurrence becomes almost daily. Namjoon somehow manages to bend a copper pot and breaks several glasses. He even knocks one of the decorations off of the shelf on his rush upstairs by knocking into the wall too harshly. 

- Seokjin doesn’t understand how someone, let alone a hybrid that was supposed to be bred with grace and above human awareness, could manage to be so clumsy, but somehow Namjoon manages. 

- And if he didn’t always look up at Seokjin with that little abashed and apologetic frown that shows that the younger hybrid actually is sorry- then maybe he actually would get angry (instead of finding it cute, cuter then he probably should find it).

Keep reading

Dance to this: Part 3

(Hybrid! Namjoon x Hybrid! Seokjin x Blind! Reader) (Service Hybrid au) (Social media au)

Summary: The 3 words are there, even if Namjoon can’t say them aloud. “I love you Seokjin, I love you Y/n” maybe he’ll be able to say them one day, but not yet. Not until he knows if you both love him back.

W/C: 11.5k

Tags: Polyamory, Mentions of hybrid mistreatment, brief allusions to some form of self-harm, lots of hurt/comfort.

Song Rec: Ariana Grande - Goodnight and go

A/n: I’m so happy to finally finish this series, regardless of the ending this is definitely the last part! I hope you enjoy the conclusion, and this story will always hold a special place in my heart. ❤️ 💌 Happy Valentines Day Loves 💌 ❤️

TRYING SOMETHING NEW: PARTS 1 AND 2 ARE LINKED IN THE COMMENTS BELOW 

Before

- “It’s nothing- don’t worry about it- I’m not-” he reverses his direction, going for his shoes and his jacket, his anxiety is screaming at him- yelling at him to get away away away from the threat.

- The threat is this: your sad imploring expression trying to pay for Namjoon’s secrets, the ones he doesn’t share- not ever, and Seokjin’s wide eyes that are wanting to pry his chest open and have his secrets laid out on the floor of your kitchen.

- “Namjoon if you’re hurt you need to tell me-”

- “I don’t need to tell you anything!” the hybrid yells, you and Seokjin freeze. You’d never heard him yell before and suddenly Namjoon can’t breathe, the air too cloying and pressing on his chest.

- He takes his shoes with shaking hands and slams the door so hard that the ceramic pots he’d gotten by the door rattle, not even bothering to put them on before he leaves. Namjoon toes them on at the top of the steps and by the bottom, he’s running.

- Seokjin holds the pan of frying onions in his hands staring wide-eyed in the direction of the hybrid that’s just disappeared. “What the fuck?”

- You start to sniff in the doorway, and Seokjin drops the pan with a clatter in a when he realizes you’re crying, his hands and arms crush you to his chest, your tears soak into his apron. “Honey” his voice is soft and as sweet as the pet name he uses with you.  “What’s wrong? What happened? What made Joonie so upset?”

- Seokjin rubs the tears away from your eyes as you swallow back a lump in your throat. “I fell against him and I felt something under his shirt- they where Scars Seokjin.”

Now

- “ I didn’t know he’d react that way- I just” Seokjin casts a pained look in the direction of the door and the hybrid that’s just disappeared. His hand falling on your head as you fold yourself into him. Fingers carding through your hair nails rubbing blunt against your scalp.

- “You’re both so stubborn Jesus Christ,” he says, more thinking about what to do than anything, running a comforting hand down your back. For a moment the urge to run after Namjoon runs in him so strongly Seokjin thinks he will, but then you tilt you nuzzle your head into his chest again and the feeling, the almost violent urge to find Namjoon deflates in his chest.

- “Do you think he’ll come back?” you ask, sucking on your lower lip, “Of course he will!” Seokjin says “he just needs some time to cool off- he’ll be back any minute now” but even he’s not sure. but as the hour’s drag on you can’t go back to work instead you sit in the corner of the kitchen out of sight of Seokjin’s camera while he finishes making the dish- chicken kachori- for his YouTube channel.

- Later all of his followers will comment that his mood in the second half seemed reserved, ask what’s wrong, and get no response from Seokjin. Leading them to speculate on what happened. He covers the dish, and immediately you spring up, Seokjin helps you put on your coat- ever the gentleman and the two of you head out into the afternoon light wordlessly.

- You and Seokjin walk through the empty streets calling Namjoon’s name down every alleyway and thoroughly searching the park where you first found him. Seokjin lets go of you sometimes to peer over the tops of fences for the hybrid to no avail.

- Dread creeps up in both of your stomachs when you start to consider the idea that Namjoon might not be coming back.  

- It gets later and later into the night, the sun sets, You get more and more worried, by the time you’re walking back to your loft, you’re definitely weepy, curling and hiding your face into his side as he shakes and casts a panicked glance down every ally way, even though they’ve already searched all of the ones near their house and even gone back to the park where the first found Namjoon. You’re almost back at the loft- turning onto your street and it seems utterly hopeless.

- “What if he doesn’t come back Jin- what if I- I pushed him so far that I pushed him away” you utter through your hiccupping sobs, “We can’t think like that baby- he can’t- he’s gotta be okay-he’s-”

- Seokjin stops just before the door to your apartment, almost falling over.

Keep reading

same deep water as you, first part.

toji fushiguro is an unstable private investigator that takes on a case for an equally unstable family. when you have decided to throw everyone in your life away, you meet someone at the dinner you work at.

toji fushiguro/fem!reader. no curses au, slow-burn ish, reader has a family, angst, age difference, grieving, eloping, protective toji, pet names (bunny/princess), eventual comfort. cw for light-voyeurism and stalking (not yandere), toxic families, alcohol use, mentions of organized crime, eventual nsft. 1.3k word count. tip jar!

The old furniture in the office was uncomfortable. The place felt cold and reeked of cigarettes, which made people stay for short amounts of time like Toji preferred.

"After finding her, I just need you to follow her around and tell me what her routine looks like.”

Toji sat across an impatient-looking woman that looked out of place.

He loved desperate clients. Worried husbands, estranged fathers, or cunning wives were all dollar signs to him. And this time it was an obtrusive sister.

“What are you looking for, exactly?” His sharp eyes never left her when she pulled out a cigarette and lit it up.

"Well, we talked from time to time, but after the notice for the funeral, no one can get a hold of her,” the woman paused to take a long breath off the cigar, polluting the air with her anxiousness. “The school could only give me what I gave you. So, my guess is she got together with someone, got knocked up or something.”

Toji nodded at her summary, focusing on the discharge forms from the college she mentioned.

“Okay. Just know, if you are going legal, I can only take evidence on public spaces.” He leaned back into his chair to start his usual spiel. “That's the reason I asked. I try to cather to all needs, so if you’d like more, it’ll be a little bit more pricey for you, but out of record.”

“I know, that's why I came here,” she barely avoided rolling her eyes. “Our dad is just so worried, you know, with his own dad dying too. It’s his little girl and he could never be tough with her. I want to give him something before deciding what to do with her.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for your loss,” Toji muttered in an attempt to skim over the sob story.

“Thanks. I know you knew him, but his friends better. You come... recommended,” she gave a critical glance across the neglected room.

“You mentioned that on the phone.” Toji flipped through her contact details to find what else to discuss. Both of them knew to keep that topic brief.

"Anyway, after finding her, which I hope will be no issue for you,” she puffed the smoke in his direction. ”I'd like you to be with her for up to a month, depending on what comes up.“

He kept nodding mindlessly, getting ahead of himself to daydream about how easy this would be.

“I would prefer that you only focus on this and drop any other case, if possible. Money is not an issue."

Oh, he’d almost squirm at that.

“I can imagine that,” he agreed, failing to contain a grin. “I do charge hourly and you’ll have to cover the expenses of my current projects to drop them, but we’ll set the payment details later on.”

They were done after the woman insisted on starting that same weekend.

“Have you ever gotten involved with the people you investigated?” was her last inquiry.

“That blows my cover, so, no.”

“But would you be willing to act? Like if someone needed to test if their wife was faithful?”

Toji had been offered similar deals a handful of times, easy to imagine with his looks, but the only one that went through was for a store owner looking to see if the girls at the counter would steal for him. Which they did.

He grinned after giving it a thought.

“Sure, for its right price.”

A chime filled the dimly lit dinner in the last minutes of your shift. It was dark outside when the cooks handed you a plate of tomato soup from the small kitchen.

The two tried some small talk when they held the door open for you, only to receive the usual quiet smile.

You couldn't bring yourself to be mean to them, but this way, it would be easier when you finally disappeared from the face of the earth.

Letting your hair down you exited the restaurant and walked over to the bus stop. Moving through the dark streets was easy now with your pepper spray gripped inside your pocket.

Your edge had gone down a few weeks ago, but the hairs on your neck were up that night, even though nothing seemed out of place.

The first sight when you finally opened the motel's door was of a full trashcan. Room service hadn't passed by that day, but you figured it was better if no one was snooping around your stuff when you weren't there.

When you found a place cheap enough in the next town over, it was too good of an opportunity to let it go. It made sense when one of your sisters called to let you know grandpa had passed away. Your grandfather wasn’t a good person and had always treated the kids and the wives roughly. For him, a man of questionable ethics, there wasn’t any sadness from you and you wouldn’t bother saying goodbye. So, you took it as fate and paid for a whole month in cash.

The urge of flopping face-down into the bed was great, but a reflection in the mirror caught your attention.

The hair color so unnatural to your own popped out in front of you. You inspected that your look was as unrecognizable as possible, like you had intended, before resuming your routine.

There was something specific about people who came to a private investigator for personal affairs. Toji would argue it was either craziness or lack of character.

When taking on a case for crazy, one had to be careful of them interfering in the jobs, so he would make sure to provide juicy information here and there, but not enough for them to know what his next move was.

Cheating husbands were his favorite. He was skillful at consoling a grieving wife, exclusively the ones that could afford him. For lack of excitement and transparency, he would not take any insurance claims or child custody cases. He was careful enough to avoid people from looking too deep into his practice.

Missing people were unusual cases, mostly because if the police couldn't do anything, those were people that didn't want to be found.

And for a moment he thought finding you would be harder than he thought. When he helped your sister file the missing person's report, he could go to the school but with no luck. You had dropped out with all necessary forms signed.

He moved over to the side of campus where most of your classes would take place, but asking around casually for you wasn’t giving him anything either. It seemed that you were hermetic enough.

"Excuse me," he had heard a small voice when he was close to giving up. "Are you her family?"

Toji turned to find a girl too embarrassed to look him straight in the eye, but the mention of your name was enough for her to approach him.

"Yeah," he said with a little smile. "Are you friends with her?"

"We were," she hesitated. "At least I thought so, she didn't really talk to anybody, but we were in most classes together".

"Did she say anything about where she was going?"

"I was going to ask you what happened to her," she had finally seen him for a whole sentence, eyes full of surprise. "She… didn't really talk, and the last day she came to class, she was pretty nasty to everyone".

Her slight lip quiver made Toji realize the girl really meant everyone. You were a little brat, weren't you?

It took a lot from him to not giggle at the thought.

"Sorry to hear that," he gave his honest attempt at an empathetic smile. "How about we go to the cafeteria and you can tell me more about what my cousin did?"

Her fluster was all the answer he needed. That was his way in.

After that, it didn't take him more than a week to be at the front of a makeshift motel on the side of the road.

“Hi, little bunny,” he whispered to himself when he got his first glance at you locking your room's door. Seems like you changed your hair and wore some glasses, but you couldn't fool his sharp eyes.

SECOND PART TBA.

note. ahhh this is inspired by a dream i had with this man. i plan this to be a short-chaptered series and to update in 1+ week. thank you for reading 💗

Delivery [Topping #1]

"Hoping for more good days, just hold my hand and smile...."

Shin Yoomi is a struggling student with no living relatives to help support her. She's lonely, stressed and beyond broke. Enter Jung Hoseok, via a pizza delivery. When the pink haired delivery boy shows up at the wrong dorm room, the pair immediately hit it off, and Yoomi finds herself finally trusting in someone, and maybe even discovers the little piece of hope she was missing, delivered right to her very own door.

pairings: Jung Hoseok (J-Hope) x OC genre: fluff, romance parts: #1 | #2 | #3

Yoomi wasn’t all too pleased with the ongoing struggle she faced almost every Friday and Saturday night, when she returned from either her class or job, to her single-person dorm room. She wished she could say she had gotten used to it after dealing with it for nearly four months now, but that would have been a deep and foolish lie.

She had not gotten used to the blaring noise the reverberated through her dorm, the sound originating from the room on the other side of her wall, Room Number 34b. Loud music and shouts lasted from eight in the evening until nearly four in the morning, every single weekend.

Living in one of the three co-ed dorms, and the cheapest of them all, she had to suck up the fact that men and woman partied so close to her. On a lucky night, she managed to plug in her own music and fall asleep to the sound of a lullaby as opposed to her schoolmates doing… inappropriate things just through the thin walls of the building.

She shivered at the memories.

Yoomi was just about to allow herself to slip into her own music, and hopefully manage to sleep some before waking up early for work, before the sound of erratic knocking filled her room, barely audible over the boisterous sounds of partying.

She almost ignored it, assuming it to be one of her schoolmates again, drunk off of their ass and shouting at her, telling her she should join on the fun. ‘Have a good time’.

Live a little.

But, when they knocked again, she realized they weren’t going to leave any time soon, and since the shouting had yet to start, she could guess the person on the other side of the wood door wasn’t drunk.

So, with a sigh, Yoomi got off of her bed, setting her old and well used ipod on the blanket and stepped to her entranceway. And, before the person could knock again, she opened the door, moving to join them in the hallway, not trusting anyone to see the contents of her room.

Her safe place.

As she stepped into the hallway, she was amazed to find the sound she heard through her back wall did not carry to the front, and once she cracked the door behind her, the remnants of the party vanished behind her to a dull hum and her head instantly felt lighter.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the refreshing silence before deciding to greet her unexpected visitor. When her eyes fluttered opened, she was slightly taken aback to see him standing much closer to her than she had thought, and her heart skipped in her chest in shock.

The boy before her was smiling, probably the brightest smile she had ever seen in her entire life, as he stood in front of her with two big bags holding several boxes of pizza. His hair was dyed a pale pink, parted almost down the middle, though not quite, and showing off a tiny bit of his forehead. His lips formed a heart as he smiled, and his eyes sparkled at her.

In her opinion, the delivery boy was quite dazzling.

When neither of them spoke for a few moments, the boy shifted on his feet, hoping to alleviate some of the weight of holding the boxes. “Uh, delivery…” He repeated a bit shyly, his smile only faltering for a second. “Dormitory 220, Apartment 34b. Six boxes of pizza. One cheese, one pepperoni, one mea-”

“Um, sorry, but,” Yoomi cut him off quickly, to which he froze, his smile finally vanishing into a confused pout, that she found immensely adorable. She gave him a regretful look and pointed behind her at her door number. 34a. His eyes widened at the sight and she felt her own heart sink, at his disappointment. “B is on the other side of the building, you can walk around the hall to get to it.”

“Ah, shit. Really?”

She nodded and he sighed, shaking his head at himself for not paying more attention. He stood there for a moment to try and figure out what to do next, but when no words were spoken after that, Yoomi decided to bow and head back into her apartment.

He saw her trying to dip away and shook his head vigorously, almost dropping the pizza’s in the process. “Hey, wait for a moment, please-”

Stopping before closing her door all the way, she peaked her head back out again and felt pity the moment her eyes met the delivery boy’s. It was quite easy to pick up on his fatigue. She lived on the third floor, and the elevator hadn’t worked properly since long before she began attending University. Six boxes of large pizzas was no doubt heavy, especially after wasting so much time standing in front of the wrong apartment.

Yoomi knew what he was going to ask before he even said it, and the good samaritan in her couldn’t say no to someone in need. “Would you like me to carry one of those and show you the way?”

Her words made his face light up again and he nodded happily at her, his smile just as bright as when he first arrived at her door. “I’m so sorry to ask this, but I honestly think I’ll drop all of these if I have to hold it for any longer than another minute.” He chuckled sheepishly, handing her what he thought to be the lightest of the two bags and gratefully stepping aside for her to join in him in the hallway.

"It's no problem." She shrugged gently, padding her way down the hall. It was only then that she made note of the fact that she was still in her house slippers and bunny onesie, her comfiest pair of pajamas. She flushed in embarrassment briefly, but concluded she didn't care who saw her like that.

The delivery boy trailed behind her, pleased with the turn of events, and he had to stop himself from chuckling at the hoodie of her onesie bobbing against her back, the bunny ears bouncing lightly.

"I like the outfit. It's quite charming."

Yoomi paused in her steps, a warm flush immediately taking over her body.

She corrected herself then. She did care who saw her like that. Or at least, she found herself caring that the delivery boy had. She ducked her head, hoping he couldn't see the pink tint raising up her neck to her cheeks, her steps picking up again at a much faster pace.

He couldn't help it then. He had to chuckle at her embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I just found it cute, is all." His short laughter only made her blush harder.

With her paced quickened, they made it to the other side of the floor in less than two minutes, and she was grateful that her embarrassment would finally end. They stopped at 34b, the early music reaching an entirely new level of loud, that actually made her grateful for the thin wall between her room and theirs.

Yoomi handed the bag back to the delivery boy and bowed politely. "It was nice meeting you. I will be going now."

As she began to walk away, he called out to her, almost dropping the bags again in his hastiness to stop her. "Uh- wait!"

Yoomi turned to him slowly, knowing full well that her cheeks still had a pink tint to them that she wanted to go bury under her pillow. The boy began to speak, but the music from the room beside him drowned out most of his words, so she stepped a little closer to him again.

"Would it be possible to get your name?" He asked, not a single hint of bashfulness evident in his features.

"W-why?" She found herself frowning, extremely flustered by his actions.

He smiled again, and Yoomi realized then that his smile was probably a lethal drug, and should only be taken in short spurts. Her heart seemed to stop continuously at the sight of it.

"Because I think you're cute, and I would like to talk to you again, sometime."

She was stunned. A complete stranger had just called her cute. A stranger who wasn't even supposed to meet her, and she had barely managed to speak words to, said that he wanted to get to know her better.

He wanted to be friends with her.

That had never happened before, in her entire 21 years of life. She found herself feeling like a high schooler once again, experiencing the heart palpitations that only a schoolgirl with a crush should feel. Something she had successfully gone 21 years without experiencing.

Until that moment.

"Um..." Words would not register in her brain, and he once again chuckled, his eyes forming soft crescents as his heart shaped lips turned into yet another heart stopping grin.

"If it helps any, I'm Hoseok. It was a very lovely pleasure to meet you, Miss Bunny."

She choked on air at that, and finally words began flowing through her brain, in a jumbled mess that was all too confusing. But, at last she was finally able to grab onto a few tangible words and spit them out in response. "My name is Yoomi."

And with that, unable to take any further embarrassment or shock from the cute delivery boy named Hoseok, Yoomi turned on her heel and sprinted away as fast she could, back to her room.

However, she still managed to catch his final words to her that evening as she escaped.

"See you later, Miss Bunny!

Bonded

Harry/Draco, Pansy/Hermione

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35392933/chapters/88219483

Summary: Harry gets assigned the most boring Auror case in the world with the most horrible partner. Featuring a certain blonde nemesis, ancient magic bonds, a dragon, and a little too much Pansy/Hermione love (in Harry’s opinion).

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 

Harry awakes to the sound of metal doors clanging open and Pansy Parkinson's shrill voice yelling “What the hell!”

He blinks his eyes open and looks up dazedly to find Hermione and Pansy glaring at him with their arms crossed looking scarily similar.

Pansy strides up to them and grabs Draco by his collar, waking him up. Before he can even open his eyes she’s berating him, “How could you do something this dangerous Draco! I told you the tunnels were dangerous when you asked me about them?! And you wonder why Shakleboldt says you go on suicide missions?!”

“Ha! I told you Malfoy goes on suicide missions.” Harrys says to Hermione before meeting the steal in her eyes and thinking that perhaps now is not a time for jokes.

“Yes Harry but you’re on one too right now.” Hermione says looking pointed furious and glaring around the room.”

Suddenly the room grows quiet as both Pansy and Hermione’s gazes fall on their clasped hands at once. They exchange startled glances before Pansy glares at Harry.

“So what's this then Draco?” She speaks icily, gesturing to the bloody hands between them.

“Um, we’re in a weak magic zone so we combined magic for Harry to cast.” Draco looks chagrined.

“I did wonder about the dragon.” Pansy says haughtily looking a little relieved.

“Can you pull apart your hands now?” Hermione asks carefully, “I think we should get a look at your injuries.”

Harry meets Draco’s eyes startled that neither of them had thought to check their hands earlier and finds Draco looking equally confused. “Yeah sure”

They slowly pull their hands apart.

Hermione gasps.

Pansy says, “What the hell.” This time softer and a little awestruck.

Harry looks across at Draco’s face and watches the flickering blue light dance across it. He looks otherworldly and Harry just barely holds himself back from caressing his cheek. Instead he looks down focusing on the glowing blue lines etched across their palms and does his best to look concerned.

“What is this?” He asks softly, voice wavering as he watches Pansy and Hermione watch them.

“Draco, how did you bond your magic exactly?” Hermione says tentatively, never taking her gaze away from Harry’s face.

Draco explains the process and Harry tries to listen but he’s distracted by blue light reflecting in the depths of his grey eyes.

“Harry?” Hermione startles him and he breaks his gaze turning back to her. “Sorry what?”

“I’ve read about this sort of thing. It was common for wizards to share power in the medieval ages in order to fight bigger magical beasts. If I’m correct the glowing only happens in the dark and should fade over time. Your scar holds a bit of Draco’s magic and vice versa. I think if you hold hands you should be able to continue to share magic. It might tire you out though.” She cautions looking carefully between them. “I wouldn’t use it again unless you’re in a life or death situation.”

Harry looks across at Draco and finds his uncertainty mirrored.

Then Draco starts to look a bit cheerful. “You’re saying I’ve bonded magic with the Savior of the Wizarding world?”

Hermione nods at him confused.

“Aha!” He cackles. “This is great now, Shaklebodt can never fire me.”

“Our magic is bonded maybe forever and all you can think about is getting to keep your job?” Harry glances at Hermione who is glancing across at Pansy and finds them to be just as perplexed as he is.

“You’ve got to learn to look on the bright side of these things.” Draco says looking affronted. “I mean think of all the things we can do. “We have enough power to fight dragons.”

“You can’t actually use it for those things.” Hermione cautions. “If people find out about this type of bonding everyone will be doing it. It’ll cause power imbalances. In fact,” She sniffs. “It’s very dangerous. We’ll have to hope it fades.”

“Way to spoil the fun Granger.” Draco makes a face at her childishly.

“It’s important you know the details.” Pansy admonishes him, sharing a glance with Hermione.

The four of them tramp through the tunnel and back into the lobby. Hermione and Pansy insist that they report their magical development to Shacklebolt which makes Harry and Draco moan and groan and drag their feet across the marble floor.

Hermione and Pansy walk them all the way to his office door like untrustworthy little jailers and invite themselves into the meeting. Harry and Draco make childish faces at them every time they turn their backs until Shacklebolt catches them and asks if their bond has caused facial twitching. Harry and Draco pretend not to know what he means.

~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe he kicked us off the safest, most boring Auror case ever.” Harry says when they’ve been ejected back into the hallway and the heavy oak door has slammed behind them.

“It’s important that they observe your magic for a couple weeks to make sure it’s still stable” Hermione sniffs at him sounding haughty. Harry starts to think Pansy is rubbing off on her.

“So we just have to sit around in our offices doing nothing for two weeks?” Harry asks grumpily.

“No. Shakleboldt said you’re going straight to St. Mungos for a couple hours of observation and then they’re making you do magical testing every weekday to make sure your magic is still fine.” Pansy states flatly looking at him with mild concern. “Do you have hearing problems? He just told us this during the meeting.”

“Ha!” Draco says, sounding hysterically amused. “I told you. You never listen to anything Shakeboldt says Harry.”

“I have more important things to think about.” Harry says dramatically quickening his pace down the corridor.

They break off from Pansy and Hermione towards the floos and Hermione calls after them “Don’t forget to meet us at Dragon's Lair when Mungos releases you! Its pub night after all.”

Huh, it is Friday Harry ponders as he steps into the floo beside Draco.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The healers at Mungos take them into a small room eager to poke and prod them with spells. They cast diagnostic after diagnostic, picking at the golden and blue strands of their magic until Harry and Draco are looking at them blurry eyed with boredom only pausing to roll their eyes at each other periodically. Finally after an hour of tests the healers proclaim their magic “stable for now” and click the door behind them leaving Harry and Draco alone in the blinding white room to wait out the last three hours of their observation.

“And I thought our case couldn’t get more boring.” Harry mutters staring at the medical posters splayed across the walls.

“I wish I had my ministry model to work on.” Draco says echoing his sentiment as he kicks his legs back and forth off of the examining table.

“This is such a waste of time” Harry grumbles getting up to look at the medical tools on the counter.

“Should we try our new powers?” Draco says, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Why not?” Harry steps closer until he’s facing Draco who’s still perched on the examining table. Stealing himself he moves in until he’s bracketed by Draco’s legs and extends his hand towards him.

Draco hesitantly reaches his own hand forward. Gently placing it down across Harry’s palm.

Their scars touch and the air around them starts to crackle like fireworks. The heat of their palms draws them in. Unknowingly they shift closer. Harry’s other palm comes to Draco’s waist and they lean into the dense sparkling warmth of each other's bodies.

Harry find himself hypnotized as the gentle gray of Draco’s eyes swirl before him. He leans in and watches as Draco’s eyelids flutter.

Suddenly Draco is shifting against him and Harry leans in further before he realizes that Draco is trying to shove him away. He stumbles, feet tripping over each other until his back hits the wall behind him. As he becomes aware of his surroundings he realizes that his clothes are smoldering.

“I… Um. Sorry” he spits out taking in the shaken expression that’s fallen across Draco’s pale face.

“Its uh, It’s alright.” Draco stumbles over his words, flustered “Should we maybe try touching again without our scars touching? To make sure it’s them causing this?” Draco suggests hesitantly. “Er okay,” Harry steps nervously forward and extends his other hand. He hopes Draco doesn’t notice he’s shaking slightly.

When Draco slips his long slender finger through Harry’s shorter brown ones the rushing heat fills Harry's head once again. He looks up and is captured by Draco’s gaze. His tongue flits over his lips and he’s about to give in, letting himself fall over the precipice that is Draco’s warmth when he realizes that Draco’s face is coached perfectly blank and his eyes are cold.

His heart drops to his stomach. He realizes maybe Draco doesn’t feel what he feels so he shoves his feeling into the back of his head and steals himself to pretend. He glances back into those beautiful grey eyes with a challenging expression and wills himself not to feel. It works, he thinks because Draco drops his hand as if he’s been stung.

“Well good.” Draco says flatly. “Looks like it only happens when our scars touch.We’ll just have to avoid that whenever possible.”

Harry spends the rest of their time at St Mungo's feeling shell shocked and empty. He studiously ignores the way Draco’s hair falls in soft waves against his neck and the way his heart expands when Draco gets excited explaining the next phase of his cardboard model.

Harry wonders when he started noticing these things about the blonde man in front of him and can’t quite place it. He wonders if it happened when he first tumbled off of the library shelves and Draco was on the ground waiting for him, arms extended. He wonders if it was during the fight that had cracked his scar open onto Draco’s desk, when he’d first realized Draco looked like an angel.

He wonders how he hadn’t realized it. How Draco had snuck up on him and made him feel like this. Sudden anger hits him like a sucker punch. His world is on fire and he’s burning with it. Draco shouldn’t be allowed to make him feel like this. Draco, his nemesis. Draco, bonded to him through ancient magic. Draco, who goes from sullen to cheerful with the flick of a switch.

Suddenly Harry can’t trust himself in a room with Draco. He clenches his fists, tries to breathe but within seconds he’s standing and snatching his wand from the counter beside them. Without a word he turns to the door and storms out.

Harry wanders the cold winter streets until his hands go numb and his cheeks are red against his tanned skin. He watches as his boots leave crisp prints in the snow and wishes that somehow things could be easy.

Eventually the sun dips low on the horizon and the sky darkens. When the street lamps around him click on he decides it’s time to head home.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry steps into the sitting room to find Hermione waiting for him. She’s dressed in going out clothes. A skin tight green dress and high heels, her dark velvety robes draped over her shoulders like the night sky. “Well you took forever.” She snorts, turning towards him, arms crossed firmly over her chest. “You remember its pub night tonight?”

“I needed some time to think.”

She continues as if he hasn’t even opened his mouth.“You know I really thought working with Malfoy would be good for you. Wake you up a bit, give you a new perspective. But instead I find myself increasingly unsurprised to find you acting like it’s sixth year again. I mean come on Harry. Walking out of a medical supervision period? Risking your life instead of sitting peacefully in a room with Malfoy is completely insane.”

Harry rocks back on his heels and keeps his mouth shut. It’s completely unhelpful to do anything other than agree with Hermione when she’s in a ranting mood.

“And Kingsley’s already owled to say he’s forgiven you. How does that man expect you to grow up when he keeps supporting this immaturity?!” She throws her hands up in the arm exasperated.

“Sorry ‘Mione I know I shouldn’t have” Harry mumbles throwing himself down into one of the armchairs. “Being bonded to my nemesis was a lot to handle and I needed some air.”

Hermione looks at him suspiciously and he can tell she doesn’t buy his explanation. She sighs and sits next to him. “I know it’s a lot to handle Harry and I’m sorry for berating you. I just wish you and Draco could figure things out as easily as me and Pansy have. I mean I can’t believe we weren’t friends earlier.”

“Being friends with Draco is never going to be that easy.”

“It might, you never know.”

Harry tries to picture being friends with Draco Malfoy but all he can think about is the hot heat in the examining room and his tanned palms against long pale fingers.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry arrives at pub night and marches through the crowd straight towards Hermione’s tousled curls.

“Look I’m here, just as I promised.” He says as cheerfully as he can muster before looking down and doing a double take.

“Um.” He pauses searching for words. “Are you two holding hands?”

“Yes.” Pansy responds serenely, lifting their clasped hands and pushing them into his face.

“Would you like a drink Harry?” Hermione asks swiftly, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

Before Harry can even respond she’s shoving a large blue cocktail into his hand. “We have some extras, a man kept sending drinks to Pansy.”

“What can I say? I'm irresistible.” Pansy grins unapologetically across at Hermione.

“Yes, and now we have all these drinks to show for it.” Harry notices that Hermione is slurring her words slightly as she gestures to the array of brightly colored drinks on the table. “Ginny and Theo have claimed those purple ones but all the others are up for grabs.

Harry glances out onto the dance floor and notices Theo and Ginny laughing heads thrown back as they twirl each other through the colored lights of the dance floor.

“I know you’re plying me with drinks to distract me from the hand holding Hermione” He says suddenly feeling a whole lot happier. “And to be frank, I’m so exhausted from the day I’ve had, it’s working. So cheers.” He holds up the bright blue cocktail and clicks it against her glass before lifting it to his lips and downing the whole thing in one go.

He’s wiping his lips and gasping for breath in recovery when he spots a head of white blond hair pushing through the crown towards them. His stomach immediately drops and sends him into a massive coughing fit.

“For god's sake get it together Potter. We’re in public and people are looking” Pansy hisses stepping on his foot.

He takes a deep breath and is finally calming the tickle in his throat when Draco reaches them.

“Pansy!” He calls warmly wrapping her and Hermione into a hug.

“Hullo Potter.” He says flatly as he pulls away. “Fancy seeing you here after you walked out on me. You know that examination was incredibly boring for the last two hours.” His gray eyes are dark and steely as he glares at Harry. Harry finds himself having a hard time glancing away just the same.

“Sorry I um had to do something.”

“Oh very convincing Potter.” Draco sneers sitting down at their booth.

They fall silent for a while listening to Hermione and Pansy chat about ministry affairs. Harry settles about drinking the array of drinks in rainbow order.

He’s started on his yellow drink when Hermione excuses herself to the bathroom.

“So Pansy, what did you do to convince that man to keep sending you drinks?” Draco draws, ignoring Harry completely.

“Oh. I bribed him obviously” Pansy responds dismissively, reaching for a new drink.

“What? Why would you bribe him?” Harry breaks through their conversation and from both of their startled looks he can tell they’d forgotten he was there.

“Well don’t tell ‘Mione obviously but I was trying to make her jealous.” Pansy confesses sticking her nose in the air. “Obviously it worked. I'm incredibly genius.”

“That you are.” Draco’s eyes are soft with fondness as he claps Pansy on her shoulder. Harry finds himself distracted, wishing Draco would look at him like that.

“What do you mean why would you try and make her jealous?” Harry stumbles shocked as things start to make sense.

“Oh I think you know Potter.” Draco winks across at him and Harry realizes that Draco must have known about Pansy and Hermione before tonight.

“You knew about this?!” He spits staring Draco down in what he hopes is a menacing manner.

“Obviously” Draco drawls. “How could you not know? It was right in front of your face.”

Harry stomps on Draco’s foot under the table and is about to respond when Theo and Ginny come crashing down onto the bench next to him.

“Hey everyone!” Theo calls to the table, swinging his arm around Harry’s shoulder and leaning in.

“I saw that handholding.” Ginny taunts Pansy as she reaches for her purple drink draining it quickly.

“Did everyone know about this but me?” Harry asks, glaring at his friends (and his arch nemesis) ((and Pansy who he guesses is his friend but it seems a little complicated. Especially if she’s keeping secrets)).

“You know we might not be able to be friends if you’re keeping secrets from me.” He admonishes Pansy.

“The only person I told is Draco,” Pansy huffs prissily. “The rest of them must have figured it out by themselves.”

“It was pretty obvious when we walked in on them cuddling on the coach last week.” Theo adds grinning at Pansy.

“I had a freak out at first but they actually make a lot of sense together.” Ginny interjects quickly. “But don’t tell Ron I said that he’d have a cow.”

Harry wishes Ron was here at least then someone would be as oblivious as he was. Then he thinks about the way Ron had thrown two of his favorite chairs across the room the first time Hermione had gone on a date after their breakup and realizes that this is the first time he’s actually been glad Ron’s gone.

“Well we all know I’m a thousand times better than Ron.” Pansy proclaims looking quite proud.

Harry is startled to find himself agreeing with her. He’d always been confused about how Ron and Hermione worked together. They were both so focused on different things and Ron never paid attention when Hermione talked about work which she passionately cared about. He thinks back to the couple of times he’s seen Pansy and Hermione together the last few weeks and realizes that Hermione's seemed a lot happier. Good for her for finding someone who makes her happy, he decides.

“I think you do make Hermione quite happy.” He states glancing across to Pansy, extending his olive branch. He’s startled to watch a bright grin spread across her face.

“Well look at that!” She giggles in a startlingly un-Pansylike way “the Savior has declared his acceptance. I really must be a thousand times better than Ron.”

Harry winces, in that moment he’s never been more glad that Ron is out of the country.

“You’re making it sound like Potter's approval is worth more than mine.” Draco whines, setting his green drink down onto the table.

“Yes.” Pansy responds primly. “That’s because he’s famous and world renowned and Hermione's best friend.”

“I’m famous and world renowned.” Draco shoots back at her lazily stirring his drink.

“Famous for working with an evil sociopath.” Pansy retorts haughtily.

“Well we can’t all be born the chosen one.” Draco shoots a glare across the table at Harry but this time it’s softer, almost playful and Harry can’t bring himself to glare back. Instead he shoots a lopsided smile back at his nemesis. Draco blanches and breaks eye contact quickly looking down at the sticky table in front of him.

At that moment Hermione’s heels click up to the table and she slides back into her seat next to Pansy. The table falls silent and Hermione looks around suspiciously. “Okay so what did I miss?”

“Potter was just saying he thinks I make you quite happy.” Pansy says her unnatural grin pouring across her face a second time.

“Oh, was he?” Hermione looks flustered and quickly picks up a red cocktail sipping it as her cheeks start to blush.

“I was.” Harry says looking at the two women across from him with warmth in his eyes. Hermione deserves happiness after all she’s gone through and if she’s found it with prickly aristocratic Pansy he’s going to support it. Yeah Pansy can be overdramatic but she’s also quite funny and recently he’s found himself warming up to the cold cutting charm of the Slytherins.

“Well good.” Hermione looks pleased and she scootches closer to Pansy pressing a peck to her cheek.

Theo, Ginny and Draco immediately wolf whistle at them startling Harry but he joins in when they start to applaud.

Pansy pulls away looking sour. “Now look at what you’ve done! everyone’s looking.” She turns toward Hermione looking for support in her reprimanding but Hermione has lost it giggling over her drink, her head falling to Pansy’s shoulder. Pansy softens and brings her hand up to card through Hermione’s curls.

Watching them, Harry's stomach curls. It takes him a second to recognize the feeling as jealousy. He wants what they have so badly it aches. He tries to distract himself glancing around the table to his other friends but his eyes catch on a flicker of gray and suddenly he’s staring into Draco’s eyes; it only makes the pain in his stomach worse.

Without thinking he drains his drink and stands up. “Alright, does anyone want to dance?” He tries to sound as cheerful and unsuspicious as possible.

Hermione immediately glares at him suspiciously.

“Yes!” Ginny and Theo cheer immediately. They’re always up for a rambunctious romp around the dance floor.

“Looks like Harry’s quite drunk already.” Theo says teasingly as he pushes himself up from the table wiggling his eyebrows at him. “Takes quite a bit of drink to get this one moving.”

Harry stands up from the table and finds his legs already feel wobbly and loose underneath him. Huh he must be quite drunk.

He imagines finding out his best friend is dating the best friend of his nemesis and almost accidentally kissing said nemesis all in one day warrant a few more drinks than usual.

The reminder of the almost kiss causes panic to rise in his stomach again and he grabs another drink off the table gulping it down before following Theo and Ginny onto the dance floor.

Theo and Ginny pull him in almost immediately and before he knows it they’re spinning back and forth under the rainbow lights. His legs feel wonderful and light and everything goes a bit blurry. He exchanges grins with Theo as Ginny spins between them her long red hair hitting them both in the face. He allows himself to forget his disastrous afternoon and sinks into the beat of the music.

After a while Pansy and Hermione join them and they form a circle spinning together in an empty corner of the room. Harry finds himself dazedly wondering where Draco has gone and scans the room spotting him across the room dancing close with a dark haired man he doesn’t recognize. A bitter taste rises in the back of his throat and the hot curl of jealousy returns to his stomach. He curses himself for allowing his stupid blonde nemesis to make him feel this way and focuses determinedly on his friends around him. However he can’t quite keep himself from glancing over at Draco every couple of minutes.

This means that when Draco finally leaves his dance partner and starts the trek across the room towards them Harry notices. He does his best to feign ignorance and concentrate on the sway of Ginny and Theo on either side of him leaning into their bodies and laughing with them.

He does such a good job at concentrating on his friends that he actually is startled when Draco cuts in between them.

“Potter.” He says and Harry’s eyes flick up to find the blonde man directly in front of him. Draco’s milky skin is covered with a fine sheen of sweat and he can tell Draco’s had a good amount to drink by the flush on his cheeks.

“Um. Yes?” Harry says, still moving to the music.

“Dance with me?” And suddenly Harry is certain this must all be a trick of his mind. He’s so drunk he’s completely lost it. Or maybe Pansy bribed Draco this time, trying to pull an ultimate prank on him.

“Did Pansy bribe you to ask me that?” He shouts back over the music, his mind still reeling.

“Um. No?” Now Draco looks confused and hesitant.

The lights wash over him painting across his skin and abruptly Harry doesn’t care if Draco’s been bribed or if he’s hallucinating. He gulps, clearing his throat nervously “Er sure. I guess. I guess I’ll dance.”

He steps closer to Draco and Draco pulls him by the sleeve deeper into the crowd. All at once Harry is immensely grateful for how drunk he is. He places his hands on Draco’s shoulders and loses himself in the push and pull of their bodies against each other.

Immediately heat pools at his navel and it feels like there are sparks of magic in the air around him. He gasps as Draco’s slender finger closes around his hips pulling their bodies even closer. He glances up into charcoal eyes expecting them to be cold and blank like in the examining room. His mind draws a blank when he realizes that Draco’s eyes are dilated and his gaze seems to be dragging across Harry’s mouth.

Harry’s too drunk to care about the ancient magic bonding them or the way Draco acted in the examining room earlier that day. All he cares about is the heat in his stomach, and the look in Draco’s eyes, and the sticky sweat feeling of their sweaty bodies against each other. He clasps the back of Draco’s neck in one of his hands pushing his fingers up through the back of his hair. He remembers when he first had the realization that Draco looked like an angel in the sunlight. He never would have imagined he’d find himself here in a darkened club pushing his body into Draco as he looks down at him with so much want in his eyes.

He watches as Draco’s gaze drags across his lips a second time. This time he can’t stop his own eyes from flitting across Draco’s lips and suddenly the two men are leaning in. The cool brush of Draco’s lips against his set a forest fire blazing in his stomach. He leans in craving more and lets himself drown in the dark bliss. Draco licks up between his lips and he opens his mouth to him. Their tongues curl around each other, all hot heat and hurried gasps. The kiss feels like making up for lost time. Harry pushes even closer, sliding a hand up and under Draco’s white shirt.

He barely gets a chance to caress the scorching skin beneath before Draco’s hands are up on his chest. He can’t quite comprehend what’s happening but suddenly he’s stumbling back into the dancers behind him. The burning heat of Draco’s body disappears leaving him cool and aching. He reaches back towards Draco to pull them together where they belong but Draco shoves his hand away.

When Harry meets his eyes they are wild and blazing. “How could you let this happen?!” Draco spits in an accusatory tone. “This isn’t us. It’s the bond. This could never be us. I don’t want you.” His voice is cold and cutting and suddenly Harry feels stone cold sober. He watches frozen as Draco disappears into the crowd.

It’s only after Draco’s disappeared that he looks down at his scarred hand and remembers the gauze he’d wrapped tightly around his scar before leaving that night.

He tries to make sense of what’s just happened and suddenly the panic and confusion of it all solidifies in Harry’s stomach and he’s immediately certain he’s going to vomit that very second.

He pushes his way through the crowds and stumbles through the side door of the pub, vomiting onto the bricks of the alleyway. It’s only a couple seconds before he feels Hemiones cool hands on his back she pulls his hair back for him as he continues to retch onto the cobbles.

“What happened? I saw Draco walk out?” She asks in her most soothing voice.

“I can’t talk about it okay. I just can’t.” Harry is embarrassed to note his eyes are watering; he hopes Hermione doesn’t mistake that for tears. He most certainly is not crying. “The bond is too much and he’s so confusing and I just don’t know what’s going on anymore.”

“Okay okay. We’ll figure it out. It’s going to be okay.” Hermione wraps him in a hug pulling him in close. “I’m going to apparate us home and we’ll have some tea. Tomorrow we can problem solve.”

“What about Pansy?” Harry finds himself asking. Pansy is the last person he wants to see right now; he can't believe he asked that.

“Oh she went after Draco.” Hermione explains quickly, waving her hand towards the front of the pub where Draco had disappeared. “It’s important for her to be there for her friends.” With that said she turns swiftly on her heel apperating them back to Grimmauld Place directly into the sitting room.

Harry drinks the tea Hermione prepares for him and goes about ignoring every single question she asks him. When she presses him he answers her in incoherent mumbles and she quickly gives up hugging him and sending him to bed.

Harry immediately falls into a fitful sleep. He dreams of pale hair tangled between his tanned fingers and milky skin in the sunlight.

Bonded

Bonded

Harry/Draco, Pansy/Hermione

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35392933/chapters/88219483

Summary: Harry gets assigned the most boring Auror case in the world with the most horrible partner. Featuring a certain blonde nemesis, ancient magic bonds, a dragon, and a little too much Pansy/Hermione love (in Harry’s opinion).

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 

Saturday morning Harry refuses to attend his magical testing at St Mungo’s. He sleeps in as late as possible. When the sunlight through his curtain finally forces him out of bed he jams on running clothes and runs for over an hour. Every time he catches a glimpse of blonde hair he’s convinced it’s Draco and the panic of it all makes him run faster and harder than ever.

When he returns he showers before sinking boneless back into bed. He reads a novel and fixes himself a sandwich for dinner bringing it back to his room to eat away from the prying eyes of his friends. As he scampers up the stairs he hears Neville in the sitting room ask Hermione in a hushed voice “What’s wrong with Harry?”

“Oh you know the usual.” He hears Hermione respond “He had an altercation with Malfoy at the pub. Now they’re both stewing over it.”

Harry rushes up the stairs before he can hear Neville's answer. He can’t believe Hermione’s got it so wrong obviously he’s not upset about Malfoy. He’s upset about the ancient magic bonding them.

He eats his sandwich in the silence of his room, stewing in rage that Hermione thinks Draco is strong enough to have this type of effect on him.

That night he dreams about Draco again.

~~~~~~~

Sunday follows the exact same pattern as the day before.

On Monday and Tuesday he calls out sick from work and goes on long hikes that last most of the day. He tells himself that he’s getting in touch with the natural world but deep down he knows that he’s doing it to avoid Hermione's wrath.

On Wednesday he wakes early to Hermione prodding him with her wand. She is dressed for work and her face is stern.

“Get up Harry. You can’t keep calling out of work. This is ridiculous. I know Draco hurt you but this is insane.” Harry grumbles and turns his face back into his pillows. Hermione casts an aguamenti charm spraying his face with ice cold water.

“Hey!” Harry yells in protest sitting up ramrod straight in bed.

“I’m just trying to help you get your life together.” Hermione huffs sitting down on the edge of his bed. “You need to get up and shower. We have a meeting at St Mungos in half an hour. I’ve done some research on your bond with Draco and I have some theories.”

“Ugh. Any theories that’ll erase Malfoy from my life forever?” Harry mumbles his heart icy at the thought of seeing Draco again.

“Nope.” Hermione responds primly pulling the covers off him. “But you’ll want to shower I assume, since Malfoy will be at the meeting.”

“If he’s there I’m not going.” Harry spits stubbornly refusing to roll out of bed.

“If you don’t stop acting like a child I’m sending Pansy up here and you know she’ll be a lot less nice about getting you out of bed.” Hermione threatens.

Harry would really rather not talk to Pansy. Especially since he’s only wearing a pair of boxers covered in flaming snitches that Theo had gotten him as a birthday gift.

“Fine, I’ll go shower.” He concedes pushing his body up out of bed and strolling to the bathroom door.

“Thank god.” Hermione signs. “I’ll see you downstairs in 15 minutes.”

Harry arrives downstairs in 20 minutes because he’s really quite a petty person and if Draco can walk out on him in a bar Draco can wait a couple extra minutes in the St Mungos waiting room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they arrive in the conference room at St Mungo's Pansy and Draco are already there. Draco is staring at the floor desolately and refuses to look up when Hermione greets him. He does mumble a small greeting back. Harry assumes it is only his pureblood manners talking.

Harry ignores Draco and sits down in the chair furthest away from him. He focuses on Hermione and the St Mungo's healer at the front of the room and forbids himself from even so much as glancing in Draco's direction.

About three minutes later he catches himself breaking his promise as he watches Draco shove limp blonde hair behind his ears. He notices the bruised skin under Draco's eyes and wonders if he hasn’t been sleeping well. Hermione clears her throat at the front of the room and he scrambles to look back at her, pretending he wasn’t watching Draco at all.

Hermione explains she’s done some research and found a similar case of ancient bond magic in an auror pair 20 years ago. She says that the paper she read detailed diagnostic charms to make sure that the bond magic is directed solely through the scar tissue like him and Draco had hypothesized

She directs them to stand next to each other and touch scars. Heat boils in Harry's stomach and he feels like there’s a magnet in his chest pulling him towards Draco but all the people in the room are distracting and Draco is still refusing to meet his eyes so this time he finds it easier to ignore the bond magic. He focuses intently on the floor in front of him and uses all his strength to keep from reaching for Draco with his other hand.

He’s focusing so hard that he loses track of how long they’ve been there. Hermione’s directing the St Mungo's healer through a series of diagnostic charms. Their wands work in tandem to pluck at multi-colored strings of magic and examine them before placing them back into the air.

At one point Harry notices Pansy hovering at the door and glaring at him and Draco as if daring them to try and leave.

Finally when Harry’s bones are aching and he’s started to realistically consider giving into the magnetism of Draco’s body Hermione announces that the diagnostics are done and they can drop hands.

Harry finds himself feeling a little disappointed. He ignores it.

Draco drops Harry's hand like he's been burned and quickly sits back down. Harry notices that he's breathing hard and his fingertips are trembling. Ha! He thinks, just like Draco, to be too weak to properly fight a bond.

Then Harry looks down at his own fingertips and realizes he’s trembling as well. He feels suddenly a hell of a lot less cocky and slouches in his chair praying Hermione will let them leave.

“Just as I thought!” Hermione announces happily. “The bond doesn’t affect either of you or your magic unless your scars are directly touching. So you should be able to go back to working normally.”

Harry watches as Draco’s face turns paper white. He turns to Harry and their eye contact is frantic, charged. Draco pushes himself up out of his chair and practically runs for the exit. Pansy follows.

Harry remains frozen in his chair.

“ I um. I thought that was going to be good news?” Hermione hesitantly says, walking over to Harry. “Why did Draco act like it was the end of the world?”

Harry gives in and explains the night at the bar. He tells her about the way the air feels charged when he and Draco touch, The way he can’t stop dreaming about Draco. He tells her he doesn’t know what to do. Tells her that if the bond doesn’t make them want each other than something else must and maybe to Draco that is the end of the world. Because a Death Eater and the Savior would never work out would it?

Hermione listens and nods and comforts him. She rubs his back as he tells her the hard parts and afterwards Harry finds himself feeling drained and empty but somehow relieved. Hermione convinces him to apparate home and they drink tea again. This time there’s a lot more talking and a lot less avoidant mumbling. Harry wishes he had confided in Hermione earlier but it’s such an embarrassing concept falling for one’s nemesis. He can’t believe that’s what he’s done.

Hermione tells him she’ll always be there for him and thanks him for opening up. Then she disappears upstairs. Harry is suspicious that she’s firecalling Pansy. But what can he do about it? He can’t quite tell her that she's not allowed to talk to her girlfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day Harry goes to work. Mostly because Hermione explains that he’ll have to face Draco at some point. Also because she explains that if he doesn’t she’ll tell Kingsley about how many of his St Mungos appointments he’s missed this week.

He arrives at the office to find Draco’s called out sick. Kingsley assigns him to paperwork all day since Aurors can’t do field duty without a partner.

When he questions Kingsley about Draco’s illness. Kingsley says “He must have caught whatever you had earlier this week” and stares at him pointedly until Harry mumbles his agreement and flees the office.

He spends his day reading case files and accidentally drawing pictures of men with blonde hair in the margins. He spends half an hour digging through his desk to find whiteout to cover said drawings. He paces the floor, sticking his head into offices of his fellow Aurors and catching up. It’s a fine day but he finds himself searching for a flash of blonde hair around every corner.

The next day is much the same. Draco calls out sick again. Harry spends the whole day with his heart in his throat watching the hallway for him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Harry only goes to pub night that night because Hermione pinky promises him Draco won’t be in attendance.

Attempting to use multicolored cocktails to numb his internal turmoil he drinks himself into quite a state early in the night. Pansy and Hermione are so happy together it makes him sick and he’s too drunk to listen to the way Neville is lecturing Ginny and Theo on South African plants so he throws himself onto the dance floor and makes it a goal to dance with as many attractive people as possible. If Draco doesn’t want him that’s fine. He’s sure there are many others who do.

Harry’s correct. He dances with an assortment of pretty people. None of them make his skin sing like Draco does but he ignores it. The ebb and flow of bodies feels nice against him and he loses himself in the music. A tall blonde man appears in front of him and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist pulling him in. He smells like brown sugar and Harry’s body doesn’t feel like a live wire against his. It’s kind of a relief. He feels in control, unaffected. Harry leans in, pushes up against him, reveling in the slide of skin against his.

Suddenly the man releases him and vanishes into the crowd. Harry looks up confused and his eyes clash against steely grey ones.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” he growls, shoving Draco’s chest hard.

“I know.” Draco says looking just as frustrated as he pushes Harry’s arms away from him.

“This is all your fault Potter,'' he spits.

Then all at once he's leaning in and Harry can’t tell if he’s about to be shoved or kissed and he freezes. Their lips meet in a bruising kiss. Draco is biting Harry’s lip so hard it might bleed and he’s leaning into it. Their arms grapple pushing at each other until hands slide under shirts to meet warm sticky skin.

Harry spins on his heel and apparates them straight into his bedroom. Draco doesn’t even pause to look around; he's focused on mouthing at Harry’’s neck as he pushes his shirt up over his head.

They fall onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and heat. Draco touches him, harsh and angry. Harry responds, pushing back against him, craving more. They move in tandem. All hot breath and whispered words.

As their clothes come off and skin meets skin Harry watches as magic ricochets in bright flashes across the room. He watches in awe for a second before turning back to the lean pale body in front of him. He pulls him close and loses himself in an ocean of gray eyes and tender skin. He thinks he can never get enough of this.

~~~~~~~~

The next morning he wakes to an empty bed. The sheets are cold beside him and every trace of Draco has vanished from the room. It’s like he was never there.

A heavy ache rises in the pit of Harry’s stomach. He forces himself to ignore it.

He goes on a long run and naps until dinner. He forces himself downstairs to eat because he knows if he mopes too long everyone will get suspicious about the Malfoy situation all over again and he really doesn’t want them figuring out what's transpired in the last 24 hours.

He traipses down the stairs and slides into his seat at the table reveling for a second in the cheerful chatter of his friends and the clatter of silverware.

“Curry?” Ginny offers. “Pansy made it.”

“Sure,” Harry reaches for the large platter.

As he grasps it in his hands and starts to pull it closer to him Theo interrupts conversationally “So, Harry. Anything to say about Draco Malfoy sleeping over last night?”

The table immediately goes dead silent. Harry’s hands tighten on the porcelain platter a second too late and it falls to the floor. It shatters on impact and the loud noise makes everyone jump and reach for their wands. Curry spread out across the dining room floor and a bright yellow stain. It still looks delicious spread out across the floor and Harry’s so hungry he could cry. “No comment” He responds tightly casting spells to mend the palter and vanish the curry from the floor.

“There’s more curry in the kitchen, I'll just go grab it.” Pansy soothes rushing from the room.

“You can’t go all no comment on us.” Ginny whines. “When me and Luna hooked up last month you made me give you all the details.”

“That's totally different.” Harry scoffs, “You’d been obsessed with Luna for an entire year. There was a whole build up to it you couldn’t just stop giving us details.”

“Oh like you haven’t been obsessed with Draco for literally your entire time as a wizard.”

“That’s different. He’s my nemesis.”

“No. Voldemort was your nemesis and you still cared about Draco Malfoy ten times more than him.”

“I don’t CARE about Malfoy.” Harry explodes pushing back from the table.

“You must a little. You did sleep with him.” Hermione interrupts serenely from across the table.

Something sinks in Harry’s chest. He tries to channel the anger and hatred he’d felt towards Malfoy at school and he can’t quite reach it. Fine maybe he does care about the blonde git. But only a little. And there’s no way he’s admitting that to his friends.

“Yes.” Theo adds mildly. “You’d have to be insane to sleep with someone you actually adamantly hated.”

“Alright, alright.” Harry holds his hands over his head in defeat and watches as Pansy levitates a fresh curry out of the kitchen. “Maybe I don’t hate Malfoy as much as I used to. But that doesn’t change anything.”

“Ahh.” Pansy exclaims mysteriously. “I think it might.”

Harry ignores her and focuses on spooning his curry carefully onto his plate.

“So, how was the sex?” Ginny asks, always the brash one.

“I’m not talking about it.” Harry clenches his jaw and glares furiously down at his plate.

“Come on just a few details? Malfoy’s quite fit.” Neville chimes in grinning.

“No! It’s not important. It didn’t mean anything.” Harry thinks about how he’ll never touch Malfoy again and suddenly feels nauseous. “I’m feeling a little sick, I’m going up to lay down.” He shoves his chair into the table with a tad more force than necessary shaking the plates and cups and turns storming up the stairs to his room. As he disappears he hears Hermione say, “You really should be more gentle on him. I think he’s quite shocked about the outcome of things.”

Pansy responds, “Quite shocked? I have a hard time believing anyone is quite shocked. The tension has been building between them since the first year.”

Harry slams his bedroom door shut, shaking the walls. Pansy is so completely wrong. How could anyone have seen this coming. He doesn’t even like looking at Draco.

He thinks again about the delicate features of Draco's face. The hypnotic swirls of his ever changing eyes and okay maybe he’s wrong. Maybe he does like to look at Draco but that doesn’t MEAN anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry wakes up early the next morning. Mostly because Hermione is standing at the food of his bed yelling “Harry! Wake up you git. Kingsleys calling you in today.”

“Um. What?” Harry mumbles sleepily attempting to disappear under his pillows.

“You have to get up.” Hermione states, flat and impatient. “There’s a dragon loose in Scotland. It’s set a town on fire already. Kingsley's calling you and Malfoy in. You need to leave as soon as possible.”

“Ugh. That's so unfair. Why can’t someone else deal with it.”

“It’s actually completely fair because neither you or Draco did a single piece of work all last week.” Hermione says primly, throwing his Auror robes at him.

“I did some paperwork.” Harry tells her haughtily, rolling out of bed and pulling on his robes.

“Oh did you?” Hermione questions looking cheerful. “Or did you just doodle on the margins of case notes like you always do?”

“Fine.” Harry mumbles chagrined, “I didn’t do much last week but I was going through serious emotional strife.”

“I wouldn’t call wanting to fuck someone serious emotional strife.” Hermione says snidely ushering him out of his room.

“Pansy really is rubbing off on you.” Harry retorts.

Hermione directs him to the portkey sitting in the hallway and he places his hand on it. Immediately the walls start spinning around him.

When his stomach stops feeling like it’s being turned inside out he opens his eyes and finds himself standing at the top of a green grassy hill. Below him a village is burning. He turns to his right to find Draco watching him, a guarded look in his eyes.

“So, we have to stop the dragon.” Harry says by way of greeting.

“Yes.” Draco’s tone is clipped and he’s still watching Harry with suspicious eyes.

“Okay so if we use the bond we should be able to encapsulate it in a holding charm of some sort until Charlie gets here to collect it.” Harry says flatly, trying to act as normal as possible.

“I’m not using the stupid bond.” Draco spits at him childishly.

“Why not? This is what bond magic was originally used for.” Harry scratches the back of his neck feeling awkward.

“Because we don’t need the bond.” Draco’s face is twisting into a familiar grimace. “In fact I don’t even need you. Don’t know why Kingsley sent you out here, you're good for nothing.” He turns and starts to stride down the hill away from Harry.

If this had happened even a month ago Harry might have fallen for it but by now he’s studied Draco, seen him with less of a guard up. He recognizes that grimace from when they were children. Back then he thought Draco only looked like that when he was angry, when he wanted to hurt someone, but now Harry knows better.

He knows better and in a split second he’s caught up to Draco and grabbed his wrist twisting him back towards him.

“Is that really why you don’t want me here Draco?” He spits, voice hoarse and cracking. “Because to me it seems like you’re just scared.”

Draco’s eyes meet his wild and defiant. “Of course not Potter, how could I ever be afraid of you. You’re nothing to me.”

“Really?” Harry takes a step closer to Draco and thinks he can see his fingertips trembling. “Because it doesn’t feel like nothing.” He reaches up and caresses Draco’s cheek leaning in.

Then abruptly he’s airborne.

At first he thinks Draco’s hexed him but when he looks back and sees horror spilling across his face he realizes this couldn’t have been something Draco did. In fact Draco looks worried for him.

His body relaxes and he starts to feel relief. His brief sense of calm is quickly washed away when he looks down at his chest and realizes that he’s slowly being crushed in a large set of talons. He looks up to find he’s staring at the underbelly of a dragon.

Harry quickly casts a quick incareous binding the dragon talons around him. After all he doesn’t want to risk getting dropped onto the burning town below.

He watches as below Draco casts a patronus. He never knew Draco could cast a patronus but he guesses Draco wouldn’t have been allowed through Auror training without learning one. He watches as the silver cloud blooms out of the end of his wand and forms into a fawn. Harry thinks it looks weak and helpless standing there on it’s long spindly legs. He watches as Draco speaks to it, sending it for backup he assumes. He watches as it disappears into the mountains behind him.

It’s only after the patronus disappears that the importance of the fawn shocks him. He freezes silent in the hold of the dragon as he watches the sunlight glint off of blonde hair beneath him. Suddenly he’s certain of just how much Draco’s been lying about.

He feels a sharp jab of pain run through his chest and looks down to see the rough red talons closing even tighter on his body. The jagged edge of a claw catches on his shirt and presses down.

Harry watches as crimson red blossoms like a wine stair against his white shirt. The blood spreads quickly and he suddenly starts to feel dizzy with a combination of blood loss and the sight of scenery rushing past below him.

He twists looking below him for a glimpse of Draco. He catches a glimpse of red and black Auror robes to his left and watches Draco swiftly catch up to them on a broom. Draco yells something to him but it disappears into the wind. Harry tries to respond but his vision gets blurrier and blurrier and suddenly everything goes black.

~~~~~~~~~~

Harry wakes up in a hospital bed. He blinks his eyes slowly opening them. A gasp of relief to his left straddles him and as he swings his head to the side his gaze catches on a swatch of bright blonde hair.

“Draco?” He breathes quietly having a hard time believing his own eyes.

“Yes, It’s me.” Harry feels someone squeeze his hand. He looks down and watches as pale cool fingers wrap delicately around his tanned palm.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Oh no Harry didn’t mean to say that out loud. “The pain potions might be going to my head.” he adds quickly hoping to avoid scaring Draco away.

“No worries. I’m glad I could be here, you scared me.” Harry carefully watches Draco’s face and his expression seems genuine.

“I’m sorry Harry. I know I’ve been a right git about it but I do like you.” Draco looks sheepish and small. Harry can’t stop looking at him.

“That’s alright.” Harry responds nonchalantly. “I get it. It’s hard falling for your nemesis.”

“Who said I was falling for you?” Draco retorts, crossing his arms and making a face like he’s pretending not to care.

“I did.” Harry pulls Draco’s hand closer to him caressing it.

Draco falls silent letting Harry pull him closer. The room starts to get hazy again and Harry feels his meds pull him back to sleep.

When he wakes up the second time Draco is asleep next to him. The top half of his body is leaning off of his chair and onto the hospital bed. His golden locks spread halo-like against the pale green sheets. Harry cards his tan fingers through his glimmering hair and waits for Draco to wake up. Somehow he can just tell that Draco will never run from him again. Or at least if he does he'll always return.

Inexplicable Things (Chapter 3)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Theodore Nott, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini

Summary: No way, no way in hell. Draco is supposed to be in France or America or, wherever else he’d deemed more important than Harry when he left five years ago. Draco is not supposed to be showing up at the DMLE out of the blue, forcing Harry to watch him as he struts confidently across the room towards him.

Read on on AO3 here 

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

When Harry finally drags himself home he feels wrung out, like exhaustion has taken root deep in his bones. He keeps his head down, eyes focused on the floor and crosses his fingers that no one is home. 

“Hi,” Theo calls to him softly, as soon as the door opens. He’s spread out on the couch holding the book Harry had been reading earlier. The lamplight falls on him softly making his skin glow golden in the dusky light of the room. 

“You okay?” He continues, looking up at Harry with a gentle light in his eyes. 

“Um, I think so,” Harry lies, hoping it isn’t obvious. He steps closer and Theo swings himself into a sitting position. He pats the newly vacated space next to him inviting Harry to sit. 

“Well,” Theo says, syllables long and drawn out, “I think we have a lot to talk about.” 

“Nope,” Harry says, popping the p and looking determinately at the flames in the fireplace, “Nothing to talk about here.” 

“It seems like Draco brings up a lot of emotions in you.” Theo says calmly, putting his hand on his thigh. 

“For the thousandth time, it’s not like that.” Harry snaps brushing Theo’s hand away. 

“Hmm,” Theo murmurs, his intense aura of calm is starting to annoy Harry, “Well, first of all that’s the first I’ve said anything about it so it’s really not the thousandth time. Second of all, I think you should tell me how it is because there’s clearly something going on that you feel the need to defend yourself about.” 

“Nope. Nothing.” Harry grits his teeth so hard it hurts. 

“Harry, I found you half naked in Ron’s pub’s loo kissing your childhood nemesis turned maybe lover turned who even knows what and then you looked straight at me and ran away, only to return two hours later looking like you’ve been crying,” Theo throws his hands up in exasperation, “I think you might have something to talk about.” 

When Theo puts it like that it does sound sort of insane and the thing is, maybe Harry could benefit from talking about Draco. Theo might give him some perspective, help him differentiate the present from the past. 

“Okay fine. We hooked up for a while in eighth year and then one night he walked out on me. If you really want to know what’s going on though you should ask the stupid blonde git. He’s the one who bloody left.” He grabs a pillow off the couch and throws it hard into the wall next to him watching it bounce off the sage wallpaper and tumble to the ground. 

“Wow, you’re not bitter at all,” Theo says with a sarcastic smile. 

“Shut up,” Harry grumbles, turning back towards him, “I’m in emotional distress.” 

“Yep,” Theo says grinning a little, “That’s been made pretty clear.” He waits a minute, then adds, “So do you want to tell me about it a little?” 

Harry sighs and stretches his long legs out on the couch shifting sideways till his head falls onto Theo’s thighs. The firelight reflects on his face in stripes of golden light setting his green eyes on fire. Harry trails his eyes down his face taking in his shapely cheekbones and tanned skin. He thinks, not for the first time, how easy it would have been if they could have fallen in love.

“Well,” He starts and then pauses, “They roomed all the eighth years together in the same dorm. I was with Dean, Terry, and Neville. Ron was with Blaise, Draco and Michael.”

“I didn’t know you and Ron got separated like that,” Theo says, looking pensieve. 

“Yeah, he didn’t take it well at first,” That was a bit of an understatement. Ron had thrown an armchair across the common room and yelled at Mcgonagall. She’d refused to grant him a room switch and he’d boycotted her class for two whole weeks until Hermione told him she’d break things off if he didn’t start attending class. The threat, unsurprisingly, had worked and as time went by he’d resigned himself to his fate. Though, that didn’t stop him from pouting about it daily and sneaking away at night to sleep in Hermione's bed. 

The absence of Ron in Draco’s dorm had often been helpful, Micheal stayed late in the library most nights studying and Blaise was often gone having amorous adventures (Harry only knew that because he liked to regale them with graphic stories every morning at breakfast). This meant it was easy for Harry to slip through the door unnoticed and quickly slide between the green curtains surrounding Draco’s bed. 

“So was sharing a common room what made you realize you liked Draco?” Theo asks, looking down at Harry through thick eyelashes. 

“Not immediately,” Harry replies, “It was more that the forced proximity forced us to see each other for who we really were.”

Harry thinks about the first time he saw Draco study in the common room book held high against his face, brow furrowed. Harry had been unable to look away. The idea of Draco Malfoy curled up doing something as unassuming as reading a textbook felt unfathomable. Draco was a Death Eater, had let Voldemort into the castle, and yet there curled up in a brocade armchair he looked so mundane, so normal, it was hard to wrap his head around. Harry watched as he turned the pages, eyes squinting and serious. He noticed that every couple of pages Draco brought his long slender fingers to his mouth and wet them with the flick of a tongue to help grasp his parchment more easily. 

When Ron had walked into the room Harry had quickly thrown himself into raucous conversation, grateful for the distraction. He hadn’t liked the way that looking at Draco like that made him question things. 

In the next couple weeks he became distracted by glimpses of other versions of Draco. Draco tumbling into the common room early in the morning, the crease of a pillow on his cheek, hair rumpled. Draco sitting in the corner of the room, head tilted back against the wood paneling, laughing at Blaise’s joke as they shared a bottle of whiskey. 

Things hadn’t really changed between them until the night Harry stumbled into the common room late at night mind still riding on the coattails of a nightmare to find Draco, pale and alone, huddled in the corner of the coach crying. 

Harry had tripped over the leg of an armchair and Draco had turned to him, eyes brimming with tears. There, illuminated by a single lamp he looked so young and hurt, so fragile that Harry had moved towards him, tentatively perching next to him on the couch. 

Draco had yelled at him then, in a broken hiss, so as not to wake other people. He’d told him to go away and called him a variety of obscene names, some Harry hadn’t ever heard before. Harry had sat silently and ignored his tirade until he’d finally given up and sunk back desolately into the cushions. That night they sat in silence for hours watching the flames flicker and consume. 

It had taken two weeks of them stumbling upon each other in the dark for them to speak a single sentence. 

“So, when did you realize?” Theo prompts him and Harry realizes he’s been staring quietly at the ceiling for several seconds. 

“It took me so long,” Harry tells him, looking sheepish, “I didn’t realize till he kissed me.” 

Harry pauses, staring up at Theo’s chin. He tries to focus on the warmth of Theo’s body underneath him, the glimmer of light on his face. He draws a conscious breath, stomach rising with it. His mind won’t stop playing the scene for him in an obsessive loop; the dark of the potions classroom, the green of the flames beneath the cauldron, and Draco’s lips against his soft, cautious, like Harry might rip away at any moment. 

“That makes sense for you,” Theo tells him, laughing a little. 

“Why does it make sense for me?” Harry asks, feeling a little put out. 

“You tend to be kind of unaware of your emotions,” Theo says carefully, “I think it has to do with the way you were raised. We emulate a lot of the patterns we were taught as children, even subconsciously.” 

Harry is suddenly reminded of the period two years ago when Theo forced himself to read at least six extremely large psychology textbooks. 

“Anyway, he kissed you and you liked it and then what?” Theo continues hurriedly, probably trying to distract from the fact that Harry has unknowingly been the subject of his psychoanalysis.  

“We fumbled around in the dark, in hidden alcoves, in the potions lab late at night. I didn’t tell anyone about it. I don’t think Draco did either. Most of the time we didn’t even talk about it to each other, but we kept doing it.” 

When Harry remembers eighth year it’s a montague of wandering hands, soft touches and secret smiles. 

“When he showed up in the DMLE it was hard,” He admits ignoring the quaver in his voice, “It reminded me of how easily I fell in love with him and how little he hesitated to take it all away.” 

“Circe,” Theo breathes, reaching down and carding a hand through Harry’s hair, “So he didn’t feel the same?” 

“I thought he might have,” Harry admits, leaning into his gentle touch, “Everything was just so good between us. By the end of the year we were sleeping together most nights. We talked about everything, the war, our childhoods. I guess we talked about everything except how we felt.” 

Theo makes a pensieve noise, blowing out a breath of air in a little puffing sound. “So what made you think that he suddenly didn’t ?” 

“He left,” Harry says simply, closing his eyes. He watches the scene play out on the inside of his eyelids. 

He’d been aware of it before he even opened his eyes. They’d left the window open and with the lack of body heat next to him he’d woken up with goosebumps along his skin. If he was honest with himself he’d already known something was wrong then. He’d felt it in the depths of his stomach, in the unsteady beat of his pulse. He’d rushed out of the room in his pajamas and stumbled upon Blaise in the common room. Usually he tried to be discreet, but that day was different. He’d matched right up to Blaise in front of everyone and asked if he knew where Draco had gone. When Blaise had explained he’d left. Harry had turned around and walked directly out of the room. He couldn’t comprehend how Draco could treat him so cruelly. 

He spent the rest of the day convinced there had been a misunderstanding, that Draco would come back for him, but a day turned into a week and suddenly it was graduation. Draco returned, just for the day. He ignored Harry the whole time, looked straight past him like he wasn’t even there. Harry had thought he would go crazy with the feeling of missing someone who was right in front of him, close enough to touch but impossible to hold. Looking back on it, he doesn’t even remember the rest of graduation, just Draco’s eyes cold and blank and the horrible ache blossoming in his chest. 

“And when he came back for graduation he refused to talk to me.” There’s a traitorous tear slipping out from between Harry’s tightly closed eyelids. He swipes at it angrily. Theo pretends he doesn't see. 

“I knew he was leaving that morning for his potions mastery. We’d talked about it for weeks. He was so excited. I just thought we’d talk about it before he left. That I would have time to tell him how I felt and we would find a way to make it work. I didn’t think he’d just leave me.” His voice cracks as he finishes, and he pulls a great shuddering breath deep into his lungs. 

Theo sighs, “That’s horrible Harry. It must have made everything worse that no one even knew about it.” 

“It did. Though, they definitely knew something was wrong. I started going out a lot. Drinking. Hooking up with strangers. Ron and Hermione were so happy together and I felt like they couldn’t understand the pain I felt. Ginny was the one who really stuck with me. I think that’s why we’re so close now.” 

“I’m glad you had her. I wish I could have been there too,” Theo says, looking sad. 

“It’s okay. I have you now don’t I,” Harry attempts to grin at him, it comes out twisted and strained. 

“You do,” Theo looks down at him fondly. They sit there for a second watching the light of the fire track it’s way across each other's skin. 

“Harry,” Theo breaks the silence, voice soft and even, “Do you think there’s a chance that maybe Draco did care? I mean… I didn’t know him then but I knew him before and I think he has a tendency to be afraid of the things he wants.” 

Harry sits up then, peels himself out of Theo’s lap,  and perches back ramrod straight on the couch. There’s tension in every sinew of his body. 

“That’s such a cop out though,” He struggles to keep his voice flat, “ I was scared too but I never would have just fucking left him.” 

“Yeah but did he know that?” Theo asks, “You said you never talked about your feelings right? So maybe he thought you’d move on once he was in France. Maybe he was just trying to spare himself the pain of it all.” 

Harry clenches his fists and tries to keep his face blank. 

“I’m not trying to make excuses for him or anything,” Theo continues hurriedly, “It was screwed up that he left you.” 

“So what if he did care?” Harry asks, the words feel strange on his lips. 

“Well,” Theo’s voice is drawn out and contemplative, “Then maybe being back here means something for him too.” 

Harry thinks about that, pictures the tense line of Draco’s shoulders when they’d first seen each other at the DMLE, remembers the way Draco had almost kissed him in the potions lab only to draw back at the last minute with carefully blank eyes. 

“Maybe,” He tells Theo noncommittally, trying to tamper down the quiet flutter in his chest, “I can’t do anything about it though.” 

“You could talk to him.” Theo suggests, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

“Ugh, why would I do that?” The whole idea sounds terrible. Harry would rather get the stomach flu than talk about his feelings with Draco Malfoy. 

“Because he still means something to you,” Theo rushes before pausing and then continuing in a more tentative tone. “He drives you up the wall mate, it has to mean something. When has anyone else ever gotten under your skin like that?”

Theo’s got a point. Harry can’t remember a time that Draco hadn’t been there in the back of his subconscious, a flash of gray eyes, a blur of blonde hair. He’d died and been reborn, been saved by Narcissa only to spend his whole way back to the castle picturing the contours of Draco’s face and wondering what he would have looked like if he’d been born with his mothers eyes. 

“You’re right.” Harry sighs, “But it's more complicated to talk to him than you think… We might have, um. Okay we kind of hooked up that first day he was back. And, um” He finishes in a rush, “I left that time, I walked away in the middle of it. I think it was a one time thing.” 

“A one time thing that was about to happen a second time, if I hadn’t walked in on you,” Theo corrects him with his eyebrow raised. 

Circe, Harry can’t believe he’d forgotten. He thinks about the soft brush of Draco’s fingertips on his warm skin and shivers a little. 

“Okay, maybe not a one time thing,” he dips his head looking sheepish, “But I don’t think it really meant anything.”

“So you wouldn’t do it again?” Theo looks skeptical. 

“Um, I mean… I might?” Harry stumbles over his words, “But again, it wouldn’t mean anything.” 

“So you’re telling me you wouldn’t care if he took someone else home? If he started dating them?” 

Fuck, Draco’s lips parted, his irises blown wide. His strong smooth hands spread across someone else’s body. Harry’s stomach flips over, it takes conscious effort to will down the rising nausea. 

“I think…,” his voice comes out rough, he coughs a little before continuing, “I think I do care, you’re right.” He leans forward scrubbing a hand over his forehead, “Merlin, Theo what am I going to do?” 

“Probably talk to him.” Theo says bluntly, lips quirked up in a wry smirk. 

“God you really should have stuck with your psychology studies.” Harry tells him, “How am I supposed to talk to him? It’s like anytime I try to say anything to him I can’t force the words out of my mouth.” 

“I think you just need to force yourself to start talking. Once you get a couple words into the conversation it should get easier.” 

“Ugh, what if I just don’t tell him?” Harry whines, wriggling in closer to Theo’s side. 

“Then you don’t tell him and you don’t find out how he feels and whatever this is, continues.” Theo says, shifting until he can swing his arm over Harry’s shoulder. “It’s up to you mate. You have to decide if Draco is worth having the conversation.” 

Harry leans into Theo’s warm embrace. He thinks about Draco’s gray eyes, they way they narrow when he wants something and flicker to light when he laughs. He thinks about Draco’s long limbs, his casual saunter. He thinks about the afternoon in the potion’s lab with Draco leaning back beside him. He thinks he always knew it would come to this, his heart full and ready, waiting to spill into pale broad palms. 

“Okay,” He signs, leaning boneless into Theo’s side. “I’ll talk to him, but give me some time.” 

“Oh Harry,” Theo says fondly, sounding almost like a mother. “There’s no rush at all. And, don’t worry if he turns you down I’ll get you a nice treat.” 

Groaning Harry shoves at his shoulder, “Way to inspire confidence in me Theo.” 

“What?!,” Theo crys, indignant.“I’m trying to make sure there’s positives either way!”

“You are insufferable.” Harry tells him leaning into his chest even further. 

“Well you’re stuck with me so you’ll just have to suffer.” Theo says cheerfully, taking his hint and pulling Harry into a long hug. 

“Hey. Where’s Ginny?” Harry exclaims, suddenly pulling out of Theo’s arms. 

“Oh,” Theo says, a glint in his eyes, “I think she went home with Blaise.” He glances over at Harry and immediately breaks down into a peal of laughter, “Mate! You look like your eyes are going to pop out of your head!” 

Harry laughs then too and burrows into Theo’s side. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry avoids talking to Draco for a whole week. 

He watches as Draco walks through the DMLE lobby every morning and feels like his heart is going to rabbit out of his chest. Everytime he thinks about visiting Draco’s office or tracking him down in his laboratory his palms start to sweat and the back of his neck feels uncomfortably itchy. 

On Thursday Ginny attempts to force an interaction by making Harry get a potion ID’d but he has a panic attack instead and she finds him in the loo hands on his knees gasping over the toilet bowl. 

“Oh Harry,” She tells him, her eyes filled with worry, “I really thought this would help things. You know, help you get it over with.” 

He just shakes his head at her and continues to struggle through shallow breaths. 

Ginny stands there with him until he gets himself under control and convinces him to ditch work with her for the rest of the day to get ice cream. The ice cream, and the break from thinking about the inevitable doom of talking to Draco Malfoy, cheers Harry up immensely. 

On Friday he focuses on blocking out all thoughts of Draco. He figures the conversation will happen if it’s meant to and he doesn't need to push it. 

But then the weekend comes, and he spends both days thinking about Draco wrapped around other men, pressed together in bed or in bathroom stalls, open mouths and pants shoved down. It makes him feel breathless like there’s not enough space behind his ribs for his lungs. He commits to talking to Draco at work on Monday. He tells Ginny if he doesn’t do it he will let her dye his hair in punishment. She is ecstatic. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the end of the day before Harry finally convinces himself to knock on the door of Draco’s office. His hands are sweating and his heart is pounding out of his chest. The sound of his fist against the wood door sounds hollow and comes to quite an anti-climactic conclusion when Harry gets no response. 

He waits a minute and then knocks again. 

Still no answer. 

Harry wants to hit something, preferably his own head against a wall, for being stupid enough to harbor feelings for Draco Malfoy.

 He turns on his heels to return home and wallow in his own misery, only to freeze stock still in the hallway. Shit, he can’t go home because Ginny is waiting for him with a manic grin and a vat full of fluorescent hair dye. Tensing his shoulders he moves back to Draco’s door. Swallowing hard, he gives it a tentative push and holds his breath as it slowly creaks open. 

“Dracooo” He calls cheerfully, before quickly falling silent. Because what? Draco’s office hadn’t looked like this last time he’d visited. 

Harry’s hands start to shake as he looks around the room. The desk is overturned, the lamp shattered against the hardwood. Books have been ripped off of the bookshelf and scattered haphazardly across the floor and ripped slivers of parchment rain like confetti. He swallows down the dryness in his throat and makes a conscious effort to breathe through his nose, just like the sodding meditation practice Hermione has thrust on him against his will. 

Before he’s even thought about it he’s leaving the room at a flat out run and banging his way through the door of Kingsleys office. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure Mr. Potter?” Kingsley asks him in a wry voice, looking like he’d rather be talking to literally anyone else. 

“Um. Uh. Someone’s ripped apart Draco’s office. I think he’s missing. Maybe he’s been kidnapped. We have to do something.” He spits out in a garbled mess. 

“Oh,” Kingsley looks unperturbed, “That. It’s fine Harry. We’ve got it under control.”  

“What?! The office didn’t look in control. In fact, it looked the opposite of control. It looked like a complete mess,” Harry spits at him, crossing the room in two long strides and pulling his wand from it’s holster.

“It’s fine Harry,” Kingley says sounding exasperated and perhaps a little fond. “I know where Draco is. I know what happened. Take some deep breaths. It’s okay.” 

“It is not okay and I don’t believe you.” Harry retorts. He moves up to the edge of Kingsleys desk where he towers over him and stares at him harshly, narrowing his eyes into green slits. “You better explain yourself right now.” 

Kingsley sighs looking resigned and motions for Harry to sit down. Harry ignores him. 

“Okay look Harry. I don’t like to spread people's personal business around but I don’t think keeping this information secret is worth getting hexed over so if you’ll shut the door I’ll explain.” 

Harry twitches a finger and uses a burst of wandless magic to slam the door closed. The sound of the wood banging shut echos in the silent room. Kingsley winces and rubs his temples.  

“Can you at least sit down?” Kingsley asks, looking exhausted. 

“Fine,” Harry concedes, sitting down with his back ramrod straight into the bright purple armchair next to Kingsleys desk. 

“Well,” Kingsley tells him, sighing, “Once again this stays between you and me, but Narcissa was admitted to St. Mungos today. Draco didn’t take it very well when I told him. He was the one who destroyed his own office. So, it’s all fine, he's okay.” 

“Okay?” Harry practically screeches, “Obviously he’s not okay if he had a magic flare strong enough to destroy his whole office.” 

“He didn’t have a magical flare,” Kingsley explains to him slowly. His brow is creased and he looks fed up. “He destroyed it piece by piece while holding his wand. He displayed an excellent amount of control actually.” 

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean he’s okay?!” Harry bursts out again. He wants to reach out and shake Kingsley. How could he be so unworried?

“Harry,” Kingsley is talking slowly like he’s working with a kindergartener, “I have Aurors come back from missions maimed and dead all the time. A sick mother? A small tantrum? Those things are barely a blip on my radar.” 

It certainly doesn’t feel that way to Harry. Draco’s hurt feels huge and significant and Harry thinks he would move heaven and earth just to ease it. 

“You can go comfort him if you want,” Kingsley offers calmly, his lips twisted in an expression of amusement. It makes Harry want to hit something. 

“Yes,” He says without hesitation, “Yes. I’ll do that. Since you can’t be bothered too. Even though it’s your literal job to keep Aurors healthy and safe.” 

Kingsley doesn’t even flinch, “Great Harry, you do that.” 

Harry pushes his chair back and rises from his seat, “Alright, well where is he?”

“He might be in his potions lab,” Kingley says kindly, “Or his house. I’d check both.” 

“Oh good. Don’t tell me you don’t even know where he is.” 

“Harry,” Harry suspects Kingsley's tone is meant to be soothing, “I told you. Blip on my radar. He’s going to be okay. You’ll find him.” 

Harry doesn’t even dignify him with a response. He shoves his way out of the office, jaw clenched and heart beating fast. He’ll find Draco. He has too. 

~~~~~~~~~

Harry tries the potions lab first. It’s a gentle mess as usual. There’s a couple of cauldrons strewn across the gray countertops and he notices several potion vials capped off and waiting for inspection. Harry doesn’t think that Draco’s there until he reaches over and flicks on the lights illuminating him curled in a chair in the corner of the room. 

Harry waits for a fight. For a hex to be thrown. Anything. 

Nothing comes. 

“Draco?” He calls hesitantly as he moves slowly towards the corner. 

“Harry, I-” and then suddenly in the next breath Draco is sobbing. Great heaving sobs that wrack his entire body. The scary part is they’re nearly silent besides his ragged breathing as if he can’t bear to let them out. 

Harry finishes crossing the room faster than he thought humanly possible. Before he knows it, he’s kneeling at Draco’s feet and Draco is reaching out for him, clutching at his shoulders and pulling him in. 

“I’m here,” Harry whispers in a rush. 

“Okay, I, okay.” Draco responds, his voice breaking. 

Harry barely dares to move lest it make Draco stop touching him. He raises his hands slowly up to Draco’s waist and rests them gently on his hips, his chest between Draco’s thighs. 

“It’s okay,” He repeats himself. “Take some deep breaths. You don’t have to tell me anything just now.” 

Harry’s entire chest feels like it will cave in. Draco. Draco who pushes him away, is holding him like his life depends on it. Harry leans into his body heat and focuses on modeling long deep breaths. Eventually Draco calms enough to mirror him and they breathe in unison. 

“I’m here if you want to talk about it,” Harry says, when he thinks Draco’s finally calmed down enough to speak. 

Draco pulls away from him enough to raise his head. He looks beautiful even like this, with his gray eyes red rimmed and desperate. Harry presses his fingertips to Draco’s pale cheeks wiping the wetness away. 

“Fuck,” Draco exhales, “Sorry.” He falls silent again. 

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry. It’s important not to bottle everything up.” 

“Merlin” Draco whispers, leaning forward and pressing their foreheads together. “I just can’t stand it. She wasn’t even a good mother. It’s not fair that I feel like this.” His breath stutters into another small sob. 

“Narcissa was selfish,” Harry tells him softly. “But, you’re allowed to think that and love her all at the same time.” 

“It just hurts so much,” Draco confesses, his warm breath tickling Harry’s ear. “It shouldn’t hurt this much. Circe, she spent my whole childhood making me hurt. It should be over by now.” 

“I know,” Harry breathes. He reaches up cradling Draco’s shoulders and stroking softly across his golden locks. Draco relaxes into the touch. 

“Sometimes I wish she was already dead,” Draco’s voice is quiet. His eyes are squeezed shut. 

“That’s okay,” Harry tells him gently. “She put you in unfair positions. She never protected you. She didn’t keep you safe. It’s okay to feel that way.” 

“It doesn’t feel okay,” Draco snaps, pulling away from Harry and sitting stiff backed in his chair. With a twitch of his wand he levitates a glass vial and hurles it across the room. Harry watches as it hits the heavy wood door with a crash and collapses into silver shrapnel. 

“Well,” Harry says wryly. “That’s one way to deal with your emotions.”  

Draco makes a choked noise in his throat and Harry turns his gaze back on him expecting more tears. He’s surprised to see a small smile etching it’s way across Draco’s cheeks. 

“Criticizing my coping mechanisms is not a good way to comfort me, Potter,” He says, amusement glinting in his eyes. 

“Well pardon me if I took issue with you destroying half the Ministry,” Harry says pointedly, his chest full of relief. 

“I was having an emotional crisis.” Draco corrects him. He looks pale and worn out, like he’s barely holding himself together. “You weren’t even having an emotional crisis when you burnt down the potions labs. At least I have an excuse.” 

“Okayyy, whatever.” Harry retorts, pushing himself to his feet. 

He stands in silence. Draco collapses into the back of his chair with a forlorn expression on his face. 

‘So, are you going to go see her?” Harry asks him carefully. 

“No.” Draco replies. Harry watches the muscles in his jaw clench and then slacken. “I can’t see her right now. Maybe in a day or so-” His eyes flick closed for a second, in a tired blink - “but not now.” 

“Alright, come on then,” Harry says, offering Draco his hand to pull him from the chair. 

“To where?” Draco asks. For once, he doesn’t sound stubborn or angry. Just tired. So very, very tired. 

“To my house,” Harry tells him simply. “I’d have to be crazy to leave you alone like this. Who knows, you might decide you fancy destroying Kingsleys office next and then we’d all get sacked.”

A slow smile creeps it’s way across Draco’s face. “Well when you put it like that…” 

“Exactly,” Harry says, trying to hide the smug look on his face. “You can’t risk being responsible for the end of my career. Come on now.” 

Draco reaches for his arm tentatively and Harry just barely suppresses a full body shiver as hand makes contact with bicep. Then, before either of them can talk themselves out of it he spins on his heel and apperates them out of the lab into his living room. 

“Hey, I didn’t know you could apperate out of the DMLE,” Draco whines at him looking betrayed as he straightens his robes. 

“Only after five o’clock,” Harry tells him smugly. “I’m surprised no one told you.”

 He turns away from Draco for a second, glancing surreptitiously around the flat for Ginny’s bright hair or Theo’s ruffled curls, both of their bedroom doors are firmly shut. He breathes a small sigh of relief. 

“Interesting decorations,” Draco says slowly, glancing around the room apprehensively. 

Harry looks around the room, taking in Ginny’s quidditch posters and Theo’s photography experiments with fresh eyes, “Yeah, it’s kind of a mix of things. Ginny and Theo are in charge of the decor. Don’t ask me.”

“So Ginny and Theo also picked out a lifesize cardboard cutout of you to place in the middle of the living room?” Draco asks wryly, stepping forward to investigate the figure. 

Shit, Harry had forgotten about that. 

“Yeah, they think it’s hilarious.” Harry tells him. He focuses on the wall in front of him and tries not to blush. 

“It is a bit.”

Draco smiles and sits down, perching on the edge of the couch. 

~~~~~~~~~

They order pizza for dinner and eat it on the couch. Draco jokes with him but his cheeks remain pale and his smile is small and tense everytime it spreads across his face. Harry wishes he could wrap him in his arms and never let go, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed as much as a brush of his hand across Draco’s leg, so he fixes himself firmly to his side of the couch. 

When they finish eating Draco mumbles about needing to finish some potions work and pulls several thick packets of paper out of the small pocket of his coat. 

“Do you have an extension charm on that?” Harry asks him, eyes wide. 

“Obviously,” Draco drawls in a way that reminds him of Snape. He levitates the papers into the air with a flick of his wand and pulls a quill from his other pocket with a flourish. 

Draco’s eyes are narrowed and Harry finds himself cataloging the sprinkles of darker color in his light gray eyes. 

“So, do you have anything to do?” Draco asks him, whipping his head up from his papers and looking Harry pointedly in the eye. 

Harry flushes a deep beetroot, “Oh um, yes. Now that you mention it I think I do.” He scrambles for the case notes he’d left on the bookshelf yesterday only to drop them. The papers scatter like snow. 

“Merlin,” He groans. 

“Well,” Draco says long and drawn out, “That does look like a lot to do. Especially since you have to do a bit of cleanup now.” 

When Harry looks over his shoulder to glare at him he’s biting his lip in a clear attempt to keep from breaking into laughter. Harry wants to shove him. Harry wants to kiss him so hard he forgets his own name. Harry blinks slowly and focuses back on the papers before him. He gathers them slowly and pretends he doesn’t feel Draco’s gaze tracking him as he moves across the floor. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Harry spends the next hour carefully focused on the parchment in front of him. He focuses on the scratch of his pen over the parchment, the rough edge of the paper against his fingertips, the couch steady and solid under his body. He refuses to look at Draco. He can go an hour without looking at Draco. It shouldn’t be hard. 

It’s excruciating. 

Eventually, Harry gives up and lets his gaze skitter across to where Draco is sitting. He freezes for a second, his breath caught in his throat. 

Draco’s asleep. He’s tucked up against the side of the coach, his papers still hovering in the air around him. He’s curled into himself with his limbs bent awkwardly, quiet snuffling breaths escaping him. The flames of the fireplace leave his features in shadow, as he dreams, his lashes flicker against his cheek. 

When Draco had sauntered into the DMLE Harry had pictured it would end in angry words and an ache in his chest. He’d never thought it could lead to this, Draco wrung out and seeking comfort on the left side of his couch. 

Maybe Theo was right. Maybe Draco had cared more than he’d let on. 

Harry thinks about love, the way it arrives when you least expect it and leaves exactly when it must. Sometimes love stays; Ginny, her small hands clasped around his shoulders as he gasps for breath in the Ministry toilets.  Sometimes love can’t; Sirius, eyes dark, body vanishing behind the veil. Sometimes love shouldn't; Draco, young, afraid, slipping out through the crack of Harry’s door towards a fresh start at life. 

Harry watches as Draco twitches in his sleep and realizes he no longer feels a painful twist in his stomach when he thinks about the way Draco left. They’d never talked about their feelings. Harry had thought showing them with a gentle caress of a cheek, a wink across a crowded classroom, would be enough. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Draco never knew. But, maybe he did. Maybe he left anyway. 

That doesn’t change the fact that Draco’s here now. 

Harry takes a deep breath and promises himself that he’ll talk to Draco. He shifts closer to him and quietly calls his name. 

Draco snorts and rolls onto his side, and then Harry has some problems speaking because the firelight catches on Draco’s hair like a halo, and Harry isn’t prepared for the double whammy of hot and disarming all at the same time. He gulps in an attempt to clear his throat and by the time he gets himself under control Draco is blinking at him slowly and stretching his legs out catlike in front of him. 

Harry gets lost in the warm press of bodies above him. When the chaos finally settles he opens his eyes and suddenly becomes aware that he’s laying flat on his back with Draco sitting on top of him, legs tangled together, and Harry's arms splayed above his head.

“Oh,” Harry gasps, chest still heaving from laughter.

“Looks like you fell first if you’re underneath me,” Draco says smugly, his face very close to Harry’s. His breath smells bitter like alcohol and sweet like syrup. Harry finds himself acutely aware that it would take only a little movement to brush his lips across Draco’s mouth.  

Harry meets Draco’s eyes and sees his realization reflected there. They stare at each other and the air feels static around them. Harry thinks he could change everything if he leaned up and let their lips brush right now, where his friends could see them, where Draco might realize that he’s not something that Harry wants to hide. Draco’s eyes widen a fraction.

read the full work here

Inexplicable Things (Ch. 5)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Theodore Nott, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini

Summary: No way, no way in hell. Draco is supposed to be in France or America or, wherever else he’d deemed more important than Harry when he left five years ago. Draco is not supposed to be showing up at the DMLE out of the blue, forcing Harry to watch him as he struts confidently across the room towards him.

Read on on AO3 here

Read on Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Chapter 5 

When they make it into the kitchen everyone is already crowded around the kitchen table inhaling their pancakes.

“Well, well, well. What a nice surprise for us to have a second guest at breakfast.” Theo calls his mouth quirked up into a smirk.

Harry shoots him a glare before pulling out a chair and offering it to Draco. Draco slides into it gracefully and Harry revels in his ability to look so poised even rumpled with sleep.

Theo passes them piles of pancakes and they dig in in silence. The sunlight shining through the gossamer curtains blooms across Draco’s hair making it shimmer in the gentle warmth of the kitchen. Harry breathes in and he can smell his shower gel on Draco’s skin mingled with the sweet spring breeze. When Ginny makes a joke he laughs. There; his mouth open, his head thrown back, a bit of syrup smeared across his cheek, he looks so carefree. It leaves Harry a little squirmy, a little terrified. Maybe his fate was decided a long time ago.

“Alright,” Ginny says loudly, interrupting his thought process and pushing her chair back from the table, “I’ve just remembered I have some paperwork to finish from yesterday so I’ve got to head in early. Harry just meet me there at 9:30, okay?” She waits for Harry to nod slowly, for Draco to dip his head back to the plate in front of him, before winking dramatically. Harry feels the warmth of a blush spread across his cheeks.

After she leaves they finish their food quickly.

“Me and Dean are hoping to be late for work,” Theo explains happily, “So we’ll do the washing up.”

“Why are you hoping to be late?” Draco asks, his brow creased in confusion. Harry’s fingers itch with the urge to reach out and touch him.

“Kingsley makes us do the discharge paperwork for criminals every Tuesday but it has to be in by a certain time,” Dean clarifies, “If we get there late enough he’ll give the work to someone else.”

“Hmm,” Draco muses, collecting the dirty dishes from the table and moving toward the sink. “That doesn’t seem the most ethical.”

“You’re right about that,” Theo says cheerfully. “But when has anyone in the Ministry really been ethical?”

Draco grins at him, “I like the way you think, Nott.”

Harry watches their banter in silence. Dean flicks a towel across Theo’s bum and he jumps, yelping. Draco giggles helplessly. He looks so open, so warm, that Harry wants to skip work and drag him back upstairs to bed. Instead he clears his throat and glances at the clock.

“We’d better get a move on since we’ve actually got to be at work on time.” He says, looking pointedly at Theo and Dean.

“We all know you’re just jealous Harry,” Theo taunts, flicking a bit of dishwater at him.

“Oh fuck off Theo,” Harry says kindly, gathering his work things from the living room, “Are you ready to go Draco?”

“I guessss,”Draco whines slowly backing out of the kitchen, “It’s so unfair we have to go in while Theo and Dean get to wash dishes.”

“You’re right,” Harry admits, before lowering his voice to a whisper. “But we won’t have to sit through the disciplinary meeting Theo gets everytime he encourages someone to act like this.”

Draco’s eyes light up, “How do you know he gets in trouble?”

Harry looks at the floor sheepishly, “Because I’m his partner. That means I’m usually the one here with him doing dishes when we should be at work.”

Draco elbows him in the side and breaks into laughter. Harry joins him.

Still laughing, Draco reaches for the basket by the fireplace that holds the floo powder. Harry reaches out and stops him. Tentatively he asks, “Do you want to walk to the ministry?” When Draco doesn’t respond immediately he continues, “It’s just so beautiful out this morning,” His eyes dart across Draco’s face for a sign of affirmation.

“I didn’t know you lived so close,” Draco tells him slowly, picking up his briefcase and moving towards the entranceway, “A walk sounds great.”

Harry breathes a quiet sigh of relief and pushes the door open ushering Draco out into the sunshine. The flowers in his neighbors yards are blooming in bright purples and reds, and the sweet scent reminds him of the spring blossoms that appeared by the lake at Hogwarts every year. It all feels so recent, as if the years that have passed since then were just a mirage.

“Do you remember that charm Mcgonagall taught us? The one where our wand bloomed roses?” Draco asks pensively, staring at the flowers that line the street.

It shakes Harry at first, that they’re both on the same wavelength, but then he remembers how familiar it is. They’d always been like that. Mirrors of each other, the boy who chose, the boy who had no choice. It had made it easier for them to understand each other during eighth year. Harry sometimes felt like Draco knew what he was thinking minutes before he’d even opened his mouth.

“I think so,” Harry says, bending closer to the blooms to sniff.

“I do too,” Draco replies softly. When Harry straightens up Draco’s holding his wand in one hand and a long stemmed pale pink rose in the other.

“It’s beautiful,” He tells him, not sure if he’s allowed to take a step forward to look closer.

Draco spots his hesitation and moves closer himself. Breaking the stem off his flower he tucks it into Harry’s button hole.

“Here. A thank you for letting me stay the night,” He says hesitantly, stepping away in a flash. He ducks his head letting his blonde hair fall over his cheeks.

“Thank you,” Harry says, falling into step next to Draco.

They walk in silence for a few seconds. Draco slows to a leisurely pace tipping his head back to let the golden sunbeams soak into his skin. His silhouette against the bright blue sky is apollonian. Harry could move away but doesn’t, keeps walking so their arms brush with every step.

“Did you really take up hiking while you were in the States?” He asks. He finds it easier to picture Draco out in the wilderness now that he knows him to be a little less cruel, a little more boy.

“I did,” Draco says, his eyes arching up in surprise. “I think you might like it too. It felt like such a relief to be out there alone surrounded by so much beauty. It was the first time I truly felt like there were no expectations for me.”

“That makes sense,” Harry replies, guiding them to the left down a narrow alley, “I think I would enjoy that.”

“I could take you sometime,” Draco offers quickly, a light blush spreading over his cheekbones.

“I’d like that,” Harry says softly, carefully looking anywhere but Draco’s eyes.

They leave the narrow alleyway and step onto a busier street. The sound of cars and bicycle bells break the tension around them. Harry watches an old woman push a stroller quickly down the smooth sidewalk. The baby inside lets out a light cry of joy.

“How have things been with Hermione and Ron?” Draco asks, raising his voice over the din of the street.

“Good, Did you hear that they had a baby?”

“I did not,” Draco bumps him gently with an elbow, “Every time I’ve seen them I think they’ve been too busy glaring at me to fill me in.”

“Oh.” Harry feels a secret burst of pride for the unbreakable ties of Gryffindor loyalty. Whoever said Syltherins were the most loyal house were severely mistaken. “That’s my fault honestly. I might have complained about you a good amount when you first returned.”

“I assumed that was it,” Draco says sardonically as he avoids getting shoulder checked by a very wide businessman holding a large leather bag.

“If you’re good, I’ll tell them to give you a break.”

“I think I can do that,” Draco turns slightly to wink at him. Harry just barely stops himself from running headfirst into a telephone poll.

“Better watch where you’re going Potter,” Draco taunts, grabbing his arm in a vice grip and steering him around a group of young people walking dogs.

“Thanks,” Harry says gratefully, trying to ignore the flutter in his chest that’s awakened by the warm grip of Draco’s palm.

A few minutes later they take another turn onto a much quieter street. They’re nearing the entrance of the Ministry and Harry spots several people wearing robes.

“It seems silly that people don’t just carry their robes and change into them once they arrive,” Draco says quietly leaning in. Harry swears he can feel his breath tickle across his ear.

“I know,” He replies. “What’s the point of the Stature of Secrecy if a Muggle investigator could just follow a trail of people in robes to the door of the ministry?”

“Well, I don’t think the entrance would open for them,” Draco glances across at Harry and meets his eye in a flicker of gray, “But you’re right. The whole thing is a bit of an oversight.”

Harry’s about to respond when a woman across the street starts to shout. The sound of her yells curdle his blood and his Auror reflexes kick in. Before he can even take in what the woman is saying his hand darts to his thigh holster and wraps tightly around his wand-shaft.

As he goes to draw his wand he feels the gentle warmth of Draco’s hand blocking him. “It’s okay,” He says softly. “Don’t waste your time on her.”

It’s then that the woman's words sink in. “Death Eater scum! Sullying our savior! Go back to Azkaban where you belong!!” The woman's face is beet red. As she yells her spit sprays into the cool morning air.

It takes Harry a second to realize who she’s yelling at. He can’t remember the last time he thought about Draco as someone on the other side of the war.

Then, it clicks and he’s storming across the street before Draco can stop him, wand out, suit jacket flapping in the wind.

“Draco is a better person than you’ll ever be,” He barks at her, his tone sharpening to glass tones. “You should be ashamed, shouting at people in the street.”

“Oh, touched a nerve did I?” The woman hisses, “Has the Death Eater brainwashed you?”

Harry steps closer pushing up into her space, “And what were you doing during the war? I didn’t see you in the battle. In fact, I would bet you weren’t involved at all. It’s so easy to judge isn’t it? When you have no idea what we were even up against.”

The woman huffs at him, her face twisting into a snear.

“Harry,” Draco’s voice is quiet. “This happens sometimes, it's okay.”

With that, he tugs Harry along, and while Harry gives the woman a sidelong cutting glare, he follows. If he’s honest, his acceptance is mostly due to Draco’s hand covering his own, Draco’s long fingers wrapping around Harry’s warm brown skin, and how is Harry supposed to defend him properly when he’s being distracted like this?

Luckily, the woman seems as dumbstruck by the sudden hand holding as Harry is himself and she abruptly stops shouting. The street is silent for a second and Draco uses her distraction to tug Harry down a small alleyway.

“This way,” He says softly, as he pulls Harry into the narrow brick pathway. “It’s a bit of a short cut.”

“Does that happen to you often?” Harry asks, his tone sharp. He’s still seething inside. The hand Draco isn’t holding is clenched into a fist and his blood is burning through his veins. He wants to punch someone. Preferably the old women they’d left behind. Though, it’s probably better that he didn’t. She didn’t deserve the publicity that would come with getting punched in the face by the Savior of the Wizarding World.

“Yes sometimes,” Draco says, his mild tone makes Harry’s blood rush faster, his feet stomp harder against the pavement.

“You know,” He adds conversationally, his finger clutch Harry’s had tighter, “that was one of the reasons I left you.”

“What do you mean?” Harry’s tone is sharp. His feet halt underneath him and they stumble before coming to a stop in the dim alleyway. “Why would that be a reason for you to leave?”

“Because I believed them,” Draco replies simply, his fingers leaving imprints against the back of Harry’s palm. “I was on the wrong side of the war. I tortured people. I was cruel and bigoted and I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror. I didn’t even understand how you could bring yourself to speak to me let alone…” He pauses for a second, “Let alone like me enough for us to have whatever it was we had.” He dips his eyes down towards the cobbles beneath his feet.

The dim light of the alleyway leaves Draco’s skin pale. With his shoulders hunched and his hand in Harry’s palm they could almost be back at Hogwarts hiding in one of the stone passageways before classes. Harry suddenly finds it hard to catch a breath against the iron band of his ribs. Back then Draco had expected the blade of life to keep right on cutting. When he left it had been him asking it to do the small mercy of whittling him into someone too sharp to touch.

“Fuck,” Harry breathes. Draco’s eyes drift hesitantly off the floor and settle somewhere near Harry’s face. “I didn’t realize. I should have. It’s so clear now. My head was just so messed up from the war. I think we both couldn’t see straight.”

“It’s not your fault,” Draco rushes, his eyes finally meeting Harry’s in a flash of frantic gray. “None of it was ever your fault. And, you might hate me for saying this but I think leaving was for the best. I needed to figure myself out. I needed to educate myself more. I needed to learn how to become proud of the person I could become. I don’t know if it would have been as easy for me to find myself if we’d stayed together all that time.” He exhales in a huff and tries to pull his hand away. Harry holds on.

“Draco, I could never hate you,” Harry pulls him closer, relishing the weight of Draco’s palm against his. “What you said makes sense. I wish things had gone differently but you’re right. Without the time apart we wouldn’t be who we are today. And, I think I like us like this.”

A small smile peaks its way out of the corner of Draco’s lips. “Thank you,” He sighs, “for understanding.” His shoulders loosen, sag a little in relief.

Harry looks at the wrung out man in front of him. He looks bone tired, like he could use a long nap. Harry can’t believe it isn’t even 9:30am yet. He remembers the kiss in his bedroom. Breakfast with his friends. All at once it hits him that he’s allowed to touch Draco now. Whatever’s between them has blossomed, spreading it’s petals out to the sun. Harry takes one swift step forward and reaches up, cradling Draco in his arms.

Draco collapses into him. His body against Harry’s is firm and lithe and as his muscles relax Harry feels the ache in his chest dissipate.

“Come on, let's get ourselves to work before Kingsley has a hissy fit,” He says softly. Draco’s hair tickles against his lips.

“Can’t let that happen can we?” Draco quips. He steps back from Harry and drops his hand slowly before turning and continuing down the alley.

They’re close enough to the Ministry that the rest of their walk passes quickly. They enter through the toilets and quickly join an elevator for the second floor.

They arrive just on time and watch as the hands of the clock above Kingsley's office tick ominously into the position for 9:30. Draco quietly highfives him and mouths, “We made it.”

There’s a fractured second, in the hallway, at the doorstep of Harry’s office where he thinks they might kiss. They don’t though. Just look at each other for several long beats before Draco rocks back on his heels, hands laced together behind his back.

“Do you want to come to dinner with me tonight?” He says quickly, fidgeting back and forth.

“Yes,” Harry says slowly, his lips turning up in a languid smile. “Yes, I would love to.”

“Good,” Draco says curtly. “I’ll meet you at your house at 7.”

That’ll give Harry just enough time to rush home for a quick shower and change. “Perfect,” he says and watches as Draco strides down the corridor a couple paces before disappearing into his office.

Harry stands in the hallway for several minutes. Is this a date? He wonders. He doesn’t dare ask. He might not like the answer.

~~~~~~~~~

Ginny’s sitting in Harry’s chair slumped over his desk. At the click of the door she looks up, her bright eyes mischievous.

“You better be ready to tell me all the juicy details,” She calls across the room, sitting up straight.

“There’s not much to spill,” Harry lies, trying to hide a smile behind his hand.

“Yeah right,” Ginny waves her wand, conjuring a second armchair for him to sit in. “He slept over. You must have something to say for yourself.”

Harry sinks into the chair gratefully. “I mean, nothing really happened. We talked. I kissed him and you walked in on it. We went to work.” He can feel a blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Okay, I can work with that,” Ginny says mischievously. Harry watches as she spins a quill back and forth between her fingers. “So what did you talk about?”

Harry feels the old inclination rise in his throat, the one that wants him to lock his jaw, the one that wants him to keep Draco all to himself. “We talked about eighth year, why he left me, why he never came back.”

Ginny nods silently and prompts him with her hands to keep going.

“Wait a second,” Harry asks feeling a bit betrayed, “You should be asking a million questions right now. Did Theo tell you about our talk?”

“Obviously,” Ginny says, not the least bit guilty. “You were acting crazy, we were both worried about you. And hey,” She adds brightly, “It worked out because now you don’t have to explain everything to me detail by detail.”

Harry groans, dropping his head to the table for a split second. Sometimes he hates his two friends almost as much as he loves them. He’s got to admit though, it does make it easier to not have to explain everything all over again.

“Okay,” He sighs, raising his head to look at her again. “So anyways, it turns out that he left because he didn’t think I loved him enough to make things work while he was in France. And then,” He pauses to add a bit of dramatic flair, “He didn’t come back because he thought you and I had gotten back together.”

Ginny chokes on the air in her throat before collapsing in hysterical giggles. Harry watches grinning as her face flushes to bright red.

“Oh my god,” She sputters, “I’m never going to let him live this down.”

“It is pretty hilarious,” Harry admits, looking down at his hands.

“So you talked,” Ginny says when she finally catches her breath. “And that led to kissing?”

“Pretty much,” Harry admits. “And also he asked me to dinner tonight,” He adds in a rush before he can convince himself not to.

“Oh my god, He asked you to dinner?!” Ginny squeals loudly.

“Say it a little louder will you,” Harry says techily, gesturing at the thin walls of his office.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Ginny quiets down but continues leaning forward in her seat. She looks like the cat who caught the canary, her face pleased and smug and begging for more. “So what did you say?”

“I said yes,” Harry says hesitantly. If he would have known opening up to Ginny would be like facing the grand inquisition he might have made some different choices.

“Oh well, obviously,” Ginny says with a dismissive flick of her hand. “I don’t know why I even asked. I mean who would say no to Draco. He’s brilliant.”

Harry feels a small irrational spark of jealousy flicker in his chest. He ignores it.

“Sooo, do you think it’s a date?” Harry bites down a smile at the sight of Ginny practically bouncing up and down in excitement.

“I don’t know?” He responds hesitantly, “I mean it might be? But we didn’t really talk about what we wanted. Only what went wrong in the past.”

“Hmm,” Ginny says pensively, drumming her fingers on the oak in front of them. “I’d say it’s a date. Or at least, you should act like it’s one.”

“Okay.” Harry’s hands start to sweat in adrenaline. “Ginny, how do I act like it’s a date?”

“Harry, don’t freak out about this,” Ginny says calmly, “You’ve been on dates before.”

“Yes, but not with Draco,” Harry says frantically as the reality of the coming evening finally sets in.

“Yes, but not with Draco,” Ginny mimics him in a high pitched voice, before laughing a bit. “Sorry, it’s not funny. It’s insane to see you finally admit you feel something for him.”

“I know, I’ve been a total pillock,” Harry admits, swallowing softly. “I should have asked you and Theo for advice at the beginning. I don’t know why I kept it to myself.”

Ginny looks at him silently.

“Actually okay, I do know.” He admits softly. “It just felt like loving Draco was paramount to who I was. I don't know how to talk about it without feeling like I was losing a piece of me.”

“That makes sense,” Ginny says, reaching out across the desk and clasping one of his hands. “How does it feel now that you have talked about it?”

“Way better than I thought it would,” Harry responds, his mouth softening into a smile. “It doesn’t feel like giving away a piece of myself at all.” He pauses for a second gathering his thoughts, “It feels more like by sharing I’m setting it free. Like it’s allowing my love to get bigger. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“Harry,” Ginny says quietly, looking at him with wide shocked eyes. “Did you just say you still love him?”

Harry’s mind races frantically combing over his words. Love, he thinks, is that what this is? Can you love someone who’s only been back in your life for a handful of weeks?

“I’m not sure,” He confesses, “I think I’ll always love him after our time in eighth year.” Ginny’s eyes narrow and she waits for him to elaborate. “It would take me time to be able to say I was in love with him again.”

“I hear that,” Ginny says, “You need time to trust him again and to understand the person he’s become without you.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Well,” Ginny sits up straight again, a glint in her warm brown eyes. “If that’s the case then we need to get started on work so we can get you out of here early. We have to make sure you have time to get ready for your hot date.”

Harry grins at her. He feels so light."I think," he admits, words kind of dislodged and tumbling around his head, " I could get used to going on dates with him, waking up next to him, having breakfast together.”

Ginny raises an eyebrow. “Hearing those words come out of your mouth almost scares me,” She admits, “I can’t believe our Harry is finally growing up.” She reaches over and rumbles his hair, making him duck away.

“Hey, I wasn’t that useless,” He cries indignantly.

“Harry. It took you five years to even admit to ever having feelings for him.”

“Fine. Okay. Whatever.” Harry grumbles, pushing himself out of his chair and picking up their case notes. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They get off of work late. Harry should have expected it really, Aurors are always working overtime.

He manages to take the quickest shower of his life and shove his body into some dark green suit pants and a white button down before he hears the doorbell ring. He tumbles down the stairs and jams his feet into some dress shoes ignoring the wolf whistles and various catcalls coming from where Theo and Ginny are sitting in the living room.

“Hello,” He breathes as he opens the door. Draco looks effortless as usual. Harry watches breathlessly as his eyes trail over Harry’s shoulders and down, then back up. Harry preens a little under the attention, his chest puffing up a little bit. He fights the urge to run a hand through his hair.

“You look good,” Draco says, his voice husky.

“Ooo,” Ginny’s shrill scream pierces the air. Harry watches in wry amusement as Draco jumps a little, “Draco thinks you look hottt Harryyy.”

“Oh my god. Will you fuck off,” Harry tells her laughing as he steps out of the house and shuts the door firmly behind him. “Sorry about that. She’s a little over enthusiastic.”

“I can see that,” Draco says, his lips twitching in his effort to keep from laughing. “For the record I do think you look hot.”

Harry blushes then and falls into step next to him. “So where are we going?”

“I thought maybe I could make you dinner at mine?” Draco says tentatively. “I just figured we didn’t want to deal with people gossiping, and coming up to us, and slinging insults at me like that woman this morning.” He looks at the ground sheepishly. “But if you want to go out we can totally do that.”

“No,” Harry says softly, nudging their shoulders together. “That sounds perfect.”

~~~~~~~~~

Draco’s house isn’t how Harry pictured it. For starters it’s smaller than Harry expected. A little cottage situated in the rolling green hills of the countryside outside London. Inside the entryway opens up to an open floor plan. There's a small living room full of colorful furniture connected to a kitchen/dining room combo where all the cupboards are painted a light sage green. All around them the walls are covered in artistic prints. The long windows along the walls open up to grassy fields and the sky is glowing in dark blue shades of dusk.

“I love it here,” Harry tells him, looking around in awe.

“Not what you expected for someone who just moved back to town is it?” Draco asks sheepishly. Harry watches as he carefully toes off his shoes leaving them by the door.

“Yeah, you’ve clearly put a lot of work into it,” Harry says, spinning on his heel to fully take in the scene around him.

“Well, I might have owned it for a while,” Draco admits softly, focusing firmly on lining up his shoes perfectly.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, scratching the back of his neck in confusion.

“I may have lied a bit when I said I only came back because my mother was sick.” Draco finally looks up at him. His cheeks are pale. “I wanted to come back. I missed London. And, maybe I couldn’t admit it to myself until I was in the DMLE looking at you for the first time in years, but I missed you too. I think maybe part of me was hoping we might get a second chance.”

“Oh,” Harry says dumbly, looking at him with wide eyes. “Oh. Well, here I am. So it looks like you’re getting your second chance.”

“Thank you,” Draco says breathlessly.

They stand there for a second staring at each other the way people normally wouldn’t unless they were furious or flirting. Harry wonders if Draco can tell how fast his heart is beating. The air is so silent around them that he can hear when Draco takes a huge gasping breath.

“This way,” Draco says, ripping his gaze away from Harry’s and turning away. He leads Harry towards the open kitchen and gestures to a stool by the breakfast bar. “You can sit here and watch while I cook. I know better than to trust you in a kitchen Harry.”

“What do you mean? I can cook.” Harry tells him feeling a bit put out.

“Harry, in eighth year we tried to have a picnic and you sliced your hand open cutting a sandwich.” Draco scoffs as he begins to pull ingredients out of the cupboards. He leans down and Harry’s gaze flicks to the swell of his bum, his long lithe legs. He suddenly finds it a bit difficult to follow the conversation.

“What?” He says. “Sorry. I spaced out for a second.”

Draco moves across the kitchen, puts a pan on the burner. “I was mentioning the hand slicing incident in eighth year.”

“Oh that. I’m just bad around knives. I can still cook,” Harry whines.

“60% of cooking is just cutting things up,” Draco scoffs. The oil in the pan starts to sizzle and he turns back to the stove.

Harry watches him in silence for a while reveling in the way his clothing clings to his lean body and the steam from the stove turns his hair slightly wavy.

“I forgot,” Draco says, breaking the comfortable silence. “There’s wine in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Harry’s suddenly struck with the knowledge that the house is furnished almost entirely Muggle. He can’t believe he didn’t notice before. He slips off of his chair and wanders over to the fridge. As he opens the wine and pores a glass he asks, “Why do you live in a Muggle house?”

“The Wizarding World is much more integrated with Muggles in France,” Draco explains. Harry watches as his broad hands lift meat and place it carefully into the pan. “A lot of their buildings mix Muggle and Wizarding technology. I just got used to it.”

“Oh.” Harry says. He’s struck by how much Draco has matured. It's beautiful, the way he’s grown into himself, the things he’s learned from traveling the world. He’s so familiar and yet, all at once fundamentally changed. Harry wonders what Draco sees when he looks at him, if he feels the same way about Harry.

Draco reaches up into the highest cabinet to grab some spices. His back arches. Harry grips the counter to keep himself from moving across the kitchen and wrapping his hands around his neck and pulling him back to the floor until their lips touch.

He stays silent as Draco finishes putting their meal together. His eyes track the bend and sway of his hips as he paces across the floor in front of him. As he moves plates and cuts through meat Harry finds himself hypnotized by the flex of his muscles through his shirt. By the time the meal is ready Harry’s throat is dry and he can feel the heat or arousal pooling in his stomach.

“Here,” Draco says softly sliding a plate in front of him. The cut of meat is steaming into the cool air, Harry can smell hints of butter and sage and when Draco places a fork and napkin down beside him his mouth starts to water.

“I figure we can just eat here instead of moving to the dining table,” Draco says, a question in his eyes.

“That’s fine,” Harry replies casually leaning in closer to his food and sniffing it again with an appreciative hum. Draco slides onto the stool next to him.

Harry’s always liked to eat next to people rather than across from them, liked to lean into their side, feel the warmth of their close proximity. He wonders if Draco remembers.

Harry lifts a bit of food to his mouth and flits his gaze sideways to take in Draco’s profile. His cheeks go warm as Draco scrapes his long golden waves into a knot at his crown. Small wisps of hair dangle down and frame his cheekbones. Harry’s mouth waters again. He forces his gaze back on the food in front of him, cataloging the shiny green vegetables, the creamy white potatoes. He shoves the bite on his fork into his mouth and groans around it.

“Merlin, where did you learn to cook like this?” He asks, quickly shoveling two more bites into his mouth and groaning again in appreciation.

Draco’s cheeks pinken, “I learned in France. It was the first time I really had to live without house elves so I picked up a couple cookbooks at a bookshop.”

Of course Draco Malfoy would only need a few cook books to make the best cooking Harry’s ever tasted. He would spend some time being put out about it if he could rip himself away from his plate for even two seconds. “Nice,” He mumbles through his food.

“I can’t believe you didn’t learn a single table manner in the five years I’ve been away.” Draco says, shaking his head and taking a sip of wine. He sounds fond.

“They aren’t that bad,” Harry grumbles, gulping down a mouthful of creamy potato.

“Harry, you have gravy on your cheek and a green bean sitting on your thigh,” Draco admonishes. He reaches over and plucks the bean from Harry’s pants placing it neatly on his napkin.

Then, before Harry can even comprehend what’s happening his dry finger is pressing soft against Harry’s brown cheek. Harry leans into it. Can’t think of anything but want, and more, and Draco. Quicker than it appeared the finger is gone. Harry sways on his stool, feels slightly dizzy. He turns back to his food and focuses on swallowing one bite at a time. The knowledge of Draco beside him sends electricity up and down his spine.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The meal finishes in what feels like mere seconds. Harry stares at the empty plate in front of him and suddenly feels twitchy. He doesn’t know how to be normal like this. It feels strange sitting in Draco’s house with nothing to do with his hands. He wants to place both his palms against the soft skin of Draco’s neck, feel his adams apple bob as he finishes his last bites. He wants to breathe through Draco’s airways, hold their bodies against each other until each beat of their hearts feels like an echo. He wants wet lips, and naked skin, a love so deep he can drown in.

Harry clenches his fists and stays still.

He doesn’t realize what he’s been waiting for until Draco pushes his chair back and walks to the other side of the counter. He stays silent as Draco casts a quick scourify before levitating the plates back onto their high shelf. Then, Draco walks back towards him and Harry swings his chair so they’re facing, so Draco is close enough that their toes line up. Harry watches the muscles of Draco’s chest clench and release.

Harry sucks in a breath, holds it, feels unsteady on his feet.

Draco’s looking at him like prey, like he’s hunting him for sport.

Harry feels like he’s standing at a precipice, a strong wind blowing him closer to the edge.

Draco presses in closer, slides his hands up his sides. When he cups Harry’s cheeks in trembling hands Harry remembers to draw a breath against the tightness of his ribcage. Heat crackles down his spine.

Draco tilts his lips to Harry’s ear, “This okay?”

Harry nods slightly, his heart in his throat and leans into Draco’s touch, eyelids low, lashes fluttering.

Draco leans in slowly and Harry hooks a hand under his shirt, pulling him in faster. His fingertips ghost over Draco’s lower abdomen, the rough hairs of his happy trail scrape on his palm. Harry tugs him closer and their lips meet. Draco tastes like wine. Harry thinks about the soft shape of his lips, their rosy pout, how they’re always glistening, and then Draco opens his mouth, lets their tongues tangle, and Harry finds he can’t think at all.

Harry’s hand brushes up towards Draco’s chest and his breath hitches. His hands drop from Harry’s chest to find his waist and then in a smooth pivot he’s lifting Harry up till he’s standing, shoving the stool aside until Harry’s back is pressed against the cool edge of the granite table top.

Draco’s long fingers fall under his shirt pressing their way across Harry’s hip bones and Harry lets out a low groan. He pulls his head away from Draco’s lips and mouths at his neck, teeth digging into salty skin and tender veins. Draco leans his head back, exposes the tender skin of a delicate neck and lets Harry bruise him, lets Harry mark him as his own.

Their bodies press together. Harry can feel the swell of Draco’s chest, the jut of his hipbones. Draco slides a palm along his shoulder, up the back of his neck and applies light pressure, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Harry gasps and ruts up against Draco. Draco pulls away from his lips just long enough to ask, “Should I show you my bedroom?” He voice is hoarse, strained.

Harry nods once and then Draco’s hand is gripping his wrist tightly. His stomach swoops with the tug of aperation and in a split second he’s standing on the wood floor of Draco’s bedroom.

He has just enough time to take in the white walls and the drapery of plant vines climbing across every surface before Draco is pushing him back onto the bed behind him, his eyes serious, his mouth a firm line.

Draco straightens up, leaves Harry gasping, alone on the bed. “Come here,” Harry whines, his dick throbs between his legs, his lips feel hot, swollen.

“Oh, believe me I will,” Draco’s tone is smooth and sultry, his smile slow and self assured. In one brief movement he lifts his shirt off of his shoulder, steps out of his trousers, shucks off his pants, and then there is just him, bare and standing in front of Harry. Harry swears softly and reaches under the waistband of his pants to palm himself.

Draco gracefully slides onto the bed and straddles Harry’s hips. Harry gives himself another squeeze, drifting his eyes across Draco’s heaving chest to where his cock stands out red and wet, juxtaposed against Harry’s clothed stomach.

“Going to let me take my clothes off too?” Harry asks, raising his eyebrow.

“I’ll do it for you,” Draco promises, his voice husky, his eyes blown sky wide. He smooths his hands deftly across Harry’s chest and opens his shirt gently, one button at a time. Harry wriggles and suddenly his shirt is off and Draco’s rough palms are ghosting against his delicate brown skin. He gasps and bites his tongue in an effort to ground himself. Draco’s fingers dip under his waistband, examining his hip bones pushing back to the space where his waist dips and swells.

Then Draco eases off again, pushing himself back and coaxing Harry to lift his hips so he can pull his trousers away. Draco leans down and kisses the newly exposed skin. His lips against Harry’s thigh feel charged, electric. Harry lets out a shaky breath and winds his fingers through Draco’s hair urging him on.

Draco lifts his head for a second. His cheeks flushed, his pupils so wide and black that Harry thinks he could get lost in them. Draco’s lips are swollen and scarlet. When he flicks his tongue out to wetten them Harry’s stomach sways like he’s standing at an unbearable height.

Draco’s hand moves till it’s clasping Harry’s hip into place. His eyebrow quirks slightly and before Harry can prepare himself for it he drops his head down sucking the head of his cock into his mouth.

“Draco,” He breathes, “Fuck.”

Draco tilts his head up looking at him. His perfect lips are stretched around the girth of Harry, his eyes burning grey. Draco’s mouth is soft, his tongue presses velvety against the head of Harry’s dick. He pushes his head back down and the whole room spins.

Harry feels the weight of Draco’s upper body against his thighs and drags his hand out of Draco’s hair, digging his nails firmly into the firm muscle of his back. Draco hums in appreciation and Harry feels the noise buzz against the base of his cock.

He circles his hips forward and Draco closes his eyes, dropping down, taking him in deeper. Draco swallows around the tip of Harry’s cock and the inside of Harry’s head becomes a swimming mess of noise. He gives his hips a nudge, a little bolder, and Draco holds still, lets Harry fuck his mouth, hot and rhythmic.

Harry tightens his hand in Draco’s hair. gathers it into a fist so he can watch more clearly. Draco glances up, eyes narrowed into slits, lips swollen. Harry feels the edges of his vision darken and lets out a ragged groan.

Draco sinks down again, smooth and graceful, the picture of debauched aristocracy. Harry stares at the arches of Draco’s shoulder blades, broader now, covered in freckles. He watches the bunch and flex of Draco’s muscles, pulls one hand out of Draco’s hair to feel the way they move under his palm.

Draco’s throat around him is perfect, wet heat and pressure. Harry’s eyelashes flutter and he lets them fall shut focusing on the warmth of Draco’s skin under his palms, he pressure of his body that pins Harry to the mattress. Draco sinks down further, the roof of his mouth pressing across the head of Harry’s cock. Harry tugs on his hair firmer and jerks forward losing himself in a few erratic thrusts. He comes so hard he swears he sees stars bloom against the obsidian of his eyelids and Draco swallows him down all hot lips and warmth, and softness.

Harry lies there gasping for a second, peels his eyes open to watch as Draco pushes himself upwards and holds himself there, above Harry. Harry reaches up and tugs him down until their chests touch, until he can taste himself in Draco's mouth. Draco groans against him and they move in tandem, breath for breath.

Harry can feel Draco’s still swollen cock caught between the hot slick of their bodies. He reaches between them and takes it in his palm rubbing back and forth until Draco’s hips twitch into tremors. Rutting against Harry he finally reaches his peak. Harry watches as his face screws up and then relaxes. He stays still as slippery warm liquid pools across his stomach and Draco rolls off of him collapsing boneless into the sheets.

“Fuck,” Harry exhales and lifts his head up to trace his eyes down the length of Draco’s body. “I missed that so much.”

A blissful smile curls across Draco’s face and he moves in closer, wrapping himself into Harry’s body heat. When his hand touches Harry’s slippery stomach he recoils a little and pulls himself up into a sitting position.

“We’ve got to get you cleaned up,” He explains, standing up and offering a hand to Harry. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour of my bathing facilities.” He smirks and walks out of the room. Harry follows him.

When Harry steps into the shower Draco follows him. Immediately, the guise of a practical cleaning is shattered and the shower devolves into an impractical half hour of hot skin and wet moans and fragrant steam that leaves Harry’s head spinning. It climaxes in a loss of balance that leaves them both in peels of laughter. They stumble back to bed and collapse into the sheets naked, their skin hot and flushed, smelling like Draco’s shampoo.

In bed Draco curls around him and Harry revels in the comfort of his presence. His heartbeat slows as Draco huffs sleepy breath across his chest and Harry lets his eyes flutter closed.

It’s early, but they fall asleep anyways. Two boys enveloped in each other, all loose limbs and wild hair curled across snowy sheets.

Inexplicable Things (Ch. 6)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Theodore Nott, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini

Summary: No way, no way in hell. Draco is supposed to be in France or America or, wherever else he’d deemed more important than Harry when he left five years ago. Draco is not supposed to be showing up at the DMLE out of the blue, forcing Harry to watch him as he struts confidently across the room towards him.

Read on on AO3 here

Read on Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 

Chapter 6 

On Friday Harry spends over an hour changing outfits in the mirror before leaving for pub night. After parting ways with Draco Wednesday morning he and Ginny had gotten caught up in their case. This meant that Harry hadn't had enough time to so much as stop by Draco’s office. He’s spent the last couple days yearning for Draco’s presence, for the glint in his gray eyes when he smiles, for the soft brush of his calloused palm against Harry’s knee.

Harry buttons up what must be the sixth shirt he’s tried on, and tries to ignore the slight tremor of his fingers. The depths of his stomach feel like a pit of snakes and his breath comes quickly. He tries to remind himself that he’s excited to see Draco, not nervous, not terrified.

Harry clenches his hands once and releases them slowly before turning on his heel in apparition. He stumbles a little as he lands, his heart rabbiting in his chest. Quickly before he loses his courage he swings open the heavy front door of the pub and pauses on the doorstep scanning the crowd for his friends.

There, standing near the dance floor, leaning into Blaise’s side is Draco. He’s wearing a tailored leather jacket and his blond hair is swept up into a loose french braid. Harry can’t rip his eyes away. He strides quickly through the throng of people. As he gets closer, Draco turns and catches his eyes in a flash of gray. They stare at each other as Harry moves in. When he reaches Draco he reaches a hand around his waist pulling Harry flush to his side and dropping a quick kiss to his forehead.

“Hey,” Harry says softly, grinning across at Blaise.

“You’re late,” Draco whines, leaning in further, his breath tickling across Harry’s ear. Harry notices the way he sways a little on his feet and wonders how many drinks Draco’s already had.

“Sorry, I got caught up with some chores at home,” Harry apologizes. “How are you doing Blaise?”

“Fine,” Blaise mumbles. He doesn’t look fine at all. In fact he looks quite upset, his lips are pinched into a firm hard line and his eyes stare unfocused across the room. Harry follows his gaze to where Ginny is talking to Dean. Her hair falls in slightly disheveled waves and her emerald green dress is loose, falling off of her shoulders. They watch as Dean clasps Ginny’s hand in his and pulls her in closer. He says something to her and she tilts her head back, sending laughter echoing across the room. Blaise tenses. Harry watches as his knuckles go white around the glass of his drink.

“Trouble in paradise?” Harry asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” Blaise sighs, “I just can’t really tell if she’s serious about me. I mean-” he breaks off, wincing a little, “We slept together but she left in the morning and now it feels like she’s avoiding me or something. It makes me wonder if she regrets it.”

“She didn’t seem like she regretted it,” Harry assures him, stepping forward a little and placing a comforting hand on his arm.

“I think you might scare her,” Draco chimes in. Harry nods slowly in agreement.

“Why would I scare her?” Blaise scoffs, “Are my Death Eater ties going to damage her reputation or something?” His tone comes out harsh and bitter.

“Blaise, you didn’t even play a part in the war.” Harry admonishes him.

“And I didn’t mean it like that anyways,” Draco interrupts.

“Then how did you mean it?”

“Like she can’t stop looking at you, or thinking about you, and she’s terrified she might mess this up so instead she flirts with other guys and pretends she couldn't care less what you think,” Draco rushes quickly. Harry nods in agreement.

“Are you speaking from experience?” Harry asks Draco, a cheerful gleam in his eye.

“Shut up,” Draco tells him, elbowing him in the side.

“I find that hard to believe,” Blaise mumbles.

Harry watches him watch Ginny and Dean across the room. They’re moving against each other to the beat of the music, lithe and rhythmic, like they don’t have a care in the world. And yet, Harry notices the way Ginny’s eyes flicker away from Dean every couple minutes, a quick glance back towards Blaise before skittering away into the crowd.

“I don’t, '' Draco says brightly, “She’s been watching you too you know.”

“She has,” Harry confirms.

“Whatever,” Blaise says, his tone bitter,“It doesn’t matter. Ginny’s free to do as she pleases. I’m not her keeper.”

“I bet the second someone tries to flirt with you she’ll be over here trying to scare them away,” Draco says, grabbing Blaise’s glass out of Harry’s hand and taking a swig.

Blaise looks at him suspiciously for a second, then Ginny’s laughter filters through the crowd a second time and his face hardens, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “Fine. I’ve got nothing left to lose anyways.”

“Perfect, now who will we-” Draco breaks off, turning away from them to scan the crowd, “Oi Theo! He hisses. Theo turns from where he was chatting quite animatedly with Luna and shifts towards them.

“We need you for an extra secret, extra important mission.” Draco explains, his voice hushed, his eyes wide and serious.

Blaise rolls his eyes, “I wish I’d never agreed to this.”

“Um, what?” Theo asks, looking confused.

Harry sighs. “Ginny’s being stupid and ignoring Blaise. Blaise is all broken up about it. Draco thinks if someone flirts with Blaise Ginny’ll come over to scare them off,” He shakes his head a little.

“Yes exactly,” Draco says, sounding a bit manic. “So we just need you,” he points at Theo with a dramatic flair, “to flirt with our hot boy toy Blaise.”

Blaise winces and looks away, “It’s not important Theo you can go.”

“I don’t know,” Theo teases, raising his eyebrow, “It sounds like it could make or break the night. I’m in if you are. I’ve never turned down a noble cause in my life.” He puffs his chest up a little, preening in front of them. Harry rolls his eyes.

Blaise looks at them silently for a second and then something inside him seems to snap. “Fine,” He says, moving into Theo’s space and splaying his palm across his broad chest. “Give me your worst baby.”

Draco lets out a piercing wolf whistle and then steps back a bit pulling Harry with him. “You have to give them space,” he whispers, “you know to make it believable.” He’s adorable like this, his eyes light and mischievous, his body tipsy and relaxed. Harry nods at him, gets lost in the pale flush of his cheeks, the charcoal flutter of his eyelashes. He’s about to lean in for a kiss when Draco’s finger jabs between his ribs.

“Ouch,” Harry yelps, shoving his hand away.

“Sorry. Sorry,” Draco rushes, “But you can't get distracted now. It’s getting good.” He gestures to the couple in front of him. Theo has his hands wrapped securely around Blaise’s shoulders, Blaise is leaning into him, his eyes predatory, his lips curved up in a slight smirk.

“Look,” Draco hisses, pointing his finger past the boys, towards the corner of the room. Harry shifts his eyes and there, pushing through the crowd with her hair flowing out behind her like a battle cry, is Ginny. Her lips are pressed in a firm straight line, her brown eyes are blazing.

She shoves into the two boys pushing them apart. Theo drops his hands to his sides and sneaks a gloating look over to Draco and Harry.

“Excuse me, I must have lost my footing,” Ginny says coldly, glaring at Theo through narrowed eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” Theo responds quickly. Harry can tell he’s holding back laughter.

The trio in front of them stands silent for a second. Draco clasps Harry’s hand with his, electric with barely contained excitement. Harry listens as the music around them switches to something slower with a softer beat.

“Well,” Ginny’s voice is low and deliberate, like every word is being dragged out of her, “Since I just happened to run into you, would you be so kind as to give me the next dance?” She offers her hand to Blaise. Theo smirks and backs up even further, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Sure,” Blaise says, taking her palm gently.

Ginny pulls him away through the crowd of people towards the packed dance floor, “You should really know better than to try and steal my man Theo,” She calls cheerfully behind her.

Theo finally loses hold of himself collapsing to giggles, “Looks like you too aren’t the only people with weird fucked up relationship issues,” He gasps, smiling up at them happily.

“We don’t have weird fucked up relationship issues anymore,” Draco informs him thrusting his nose into the air, “We’ve worked them out. We’re dating now.”

“Um.” a hot blush spreads slowly over Harry’s face, “We are?”

“What?” Draco looks taken aback, “You didn’t know? It couldn’t be more obvious Potter. I mean I literally took you out to dinner.” Theo looks back and forth between them slowly before breaking out into laughter again, “And you said you didn’t have weird fucked up relationship issues anymore,” He teases, his eyes glistening manically.

“We don’t,” Draco protests, “We might have slightly different communication styles but that doesn’t mean we have issues.” He wraps an arm around Harry's waist, tugging him closer. Harry burrows into his body warmth. “You’re just jealous Theo,” Draco adds, sticking his tongue out at Theo for good measure.

“You know what?” Theo says slowly, backing away. “I think I am. You’re cute together.” He turns away and wanders off leaving Harry and Draco alone together wrapped up in a warm embrace.

~~~~~~~~~~

Harry would prefer to spend the entire night glued to Draco’s side listening to him gossip with Theo about Kingsley's extracurricular activities or watching him aggressively teaching Ginny how to tango but eventually he gets ripped away by Dean who needs an emergency consult on if Seamus is flirting with him or not, and the conversations seems to take about three hundred years so by the time it’s finished Draco’s been swallowed up by the crowd.

When Harry finds him he’s in the back of the pub by the pool tables. Pansy is perched on the edge of the pool table, her feet kicking back and forth rhythmically. As Draco speaks to her she leans forward exposing more cleavage than Harry had ever thought possible. She tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder and blinks up at Draco.

No way, Harry’s not stupid. He knows what it looks like when someone’s trying to pull. He strides confidently towards them and wraps a casual hand around Draco’s side, slotting in next to him. Draco’s body relaxes immediately. He looks away from Pansy and runs his fingers carefully through Harry’s hair. Harry watches as Pansy’s eyes narrow and then widen again.

“Well,” She says slowly, “This is new.” Her eyebrows rise up her forehead.

“New, and also rather old,” Draco informs her sheepishly, leaning even further into Harry’s side.

“Oh?” Pansy purses her lips.

“We hooked up a bit in eight year,” Harry explains quickly. Honestly he’s a bit shocked Pansy didn’t already know.

Pansy’s stiff lips soften into a smirk,”You’ll always continue to surprise me won’t you Draco?” She kicks her leg out to tap playfully against his kneecap. “I can’t wait to tell everyone.”

“Um everyone might already know,” Draco informs her slowly.

“Wow,” Pansy’s eyes narrow again but this time her expression stays playful, “That is cruel and unusual punishment young Malfoy. What ever did I do to deserve this treatment?” “You were away in Italy,” Draco whines back, “How was I supposed to know you’d return and have all sorts of investment in my love life.”

“Love life is it?” Pansy waggles her eyebrows at him suggestively.

Draco falls silent, a light flush blooming on his cheekbones. Harry squeezes him in closer.

“I’m happy for you Draco,” Pansy kicks his knee lightly again. Draco smiles at her. Then she slides her eyes across glares a bit at Harry. “If you so much as harm one hair on this boy's head you will pay.”

“Er, yes. I mean I don’t plan on hurting him,” Harry stumbles quickly.

“I don’t care about intentions. I only respect actions,” Pansy tells him primly. She turns back to Draco and continues smiling at him.

They have what seems to be some sort of silent conversation for several seconds. Pansy winking and widening her eyes. Draco winking back at her. Harry feels a bit left out. It seems like Draco notices because he looks away from Pansy and back at Harry quickly.

“Well,” Draco says briskly, breaking the silence, “This has been very nice but I think it’s time I take my boy to the dance floor. I’ll see you soon for coffee, Pansy?”

“Yes of course,” Pansy says, still grinning at him.

Draco wraps his arm more firmly around Harry’s shoulder and stears him away through the crowd. Harry only looks over his shoulder once to confirm that Pansy is still glaring at him, her eyes suspicious. He’s surprised to feel a strange relief flush through him as the heat of her stare burns into his back. He’s glad there are people looking out for Draco, he realizes.

~~~~~~~~~

When they reach the dance Draco gathers Harry in his arms and automatically starts to shift his feet in rhythmic patterns. Harry attempts to copy him and immediately steps on his feet.

“How you survive as an Auror with no coordination at all really astounds me,” Draco comments, his lips twitching, his eyebrows raised.

“Well you know me. I’m always doing the impossible,” Harry shoots back.

Luckily the music quickly switches to something a little slower and Draco pulls him closer and they sway. The heat between their bodies bleeds slowly into Harry's veins. He leans in and their foreheads brush. Looking up into Draco’s eyes he realizes their lips are so close that with one slight shift they could be kissing. Draco seems to catch on at the exact same moment and Harry watches as he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing once in his throat and then he leans in.

They kiss for a while, mouths soft and wet against each other. The kisses are aimless, a happy little hello in the middle of so much lightness. Then, Ginny catches sight of them and lets out a piercing wolf whistle. It draws the attention of almost every one of their friends who join in on the whistling and cat calling until Draco and Harry quickly break apart laughing.

“Do you want to go outside for a bit?” Draco asks, his lips twitching as he controls his laughter.

“Yes,” Harry answers loudly, “I think we deserve a break from the appalling harassment of our friends.”

“Booooo,” Ginny calls. Harry notices that she's leaning against Blaise, her arm curled gently around his waist.

“Look,” He whispers, poking Draco in the arm, “Your plan worked.”

“Wow. Do you really have no faith in me?” Draco hisses back, mock offended, “Of course it did. I'm a scheming genius.”

Harry rolls his eyes and grabs Draco’s elbow pulling him out of their circle of friends and through the side door into the cold night air.

Draco immediately flops down onto the steps patting the space next to him in invitation. Harry joins him, leaning into his body warmth and straightening his legs out in front of him.

They sit for a while in silence. Harry watches the way Draco’s breath freezes in the air and drifts away in little silver puffs. His heart speeds up in his chest.

“Did you mean it earlier?” He asks quietly.

Draco tips his head until their eyes meet, “Mean what?”

“When you said that we were together,” Harry clarifies. He thinks his hands might be trembling, so he refuses to look at them.

“Of course I did,” Draco confirms, his hand falling to Harry’s kneecap. “But I mean sorry. I guess I shouldn't have assumed. If you don’t want to?”

“No I do. I do want to,” Harry rushes. He slides his hand over Draco’s fingers, his calluses drag across soft skin. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t,” He pauses, gathering his thoughts, “joking around or playing a game or anything.”

“No,” Draco says simply. “This is real to me.”

“Me too,” Harry tells him. His heart slows down in his chest. His breathing quiets. They sit in silence for a while staring out into the inky darkness of the alleyway. It’s the comfortable quiet that's only possible when you’ve known each other for a long time.

“I love our friends dearly but do you want to maybe go home now?” Draco asks, breaking the silence.

“I’d like that,” Harry replies.

They rise, brush the dust off the back of their pants and clasp hands. Harry feels the tug of apparition in his stomach and seconds later they land on the hardwood floor of Draco’s bedroom.

“Sorry if picking the bedroom seems presumptuous,” Draco tells him sheepishly, kicking off his shoes. “I mostly wanted to get into comfier clothes as soon as possible.”

Harry laughs at him and kicks his own shoes off before unbuttoning his shirt and shucking it off onto the floor. He leaps onto the bed with careless freedom suggestively patting the space next to him. Draco winks at him and pulls off his own shirt. He drapes himself languidly across the duvet and stretches a broad hand over Harry’s hip pulling him closer. Harry lets himself melt into Draco’s skin.

“Why are you smiling so much?” Draco asks suspiciously. He’s trailing his hand in small circles across Harry’s chest.

“I just love being here with you,” Harry replies softly. Every time he touches Draco or looks into his eyes, or watches him across a crowded room the immense joy of it all hits him again.

“Me too,” Draco says, quiet and reverent. Harry reaches up and undoes his braid. Draco sighs as Harry massages along his scalp, his hands tangling through pools of glowing blonde locks. Harry loses himself in the gasp of Draco’s breath, in the slide of hair through his fist.

When Draco slips his hands under the waistband of Harry’s pants his eyes flicker softly shut. There’s no changing the past he thinks, but the future is wide open and the present is warm and breathtaking, gentle fingertips and open mouths and clothes carelessly crumpled on the dark wood floor.

This is the final chapter! Hope everyone enjoyed the adventure that was this fic :) I loved writing it. 

Harry would prefer to spend the entire night glued to Draco’s side listening to him gossip with Theo about Kingsley's extracurricular activities, or watching him aggressively teaching Ginny how to tango, but eventually he gets ripped away by Dean who needs an emergency consult on if Seamus is flirting with him or not, and the conversations seems to take about three hundred years so by the time it’s finished Draco’s been swallowed up by the crowd.

When Harry finds him he’s in the back of the pub by the pool tables. Pansy is perched on the edge of the one next to him, her feet kicking back and forth rhythmically. As Draco speaks to her she leans forward exposing more cleavage than Harry had ever thought possible. She tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder and blinks up at him.

No way, Harry’s not stupid. He knows what it looks like when someone’s trying to pull. He strides confidently towards them and wraps a casual hand around Draco’s side, slotting in next to him. Draco’s body relaxes immediately. He looks away from Pansy and runs his fingers carefully through Harry’s hair. Harry watches as Pansy’s eyes narrow and then widen.

Read full work here 

when you go (leave your shadow behind) 

pairing: Regulus Black/James Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

summary:

The door opens and the light from the hall pours through, illuminating a silhouette. Regulus feels the air freeze in his lungs as he tracks his gaze frantically over rumpled brown hair and wide eyes.

“James!? What are you doing here?” His voice comes out a croak, cracked and an octave too low. Hesitantly he steps closer only to find himself twisted backwards and slammed violently against the wall.

“I’m not James.” The boy says roughly, his green eyes flashing as he jabs his wand directly into Regulus’s neck. “James is dead.”

Read on AO3

bitchin’ || pt. 3 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 6.4k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: multiple smut scenes, science talk, banter, jealousy, alcohol & LOTS of colorful 80s slang lmao

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before & Stranger Things 3. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness and @httpjeon for editing this chapter!

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

PART THREE

“You’re a psychopath.” You accused.

Jungkook let out a scoff, eyes rolling in dismissal.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Stop the car.”

“Y/N.” Jungkook scolded, reaching over to turn down the radio’s volume.

“I’m serious, asshole. Let me out!” You huffed before lowering your eyes into small slits. “You’re probably driving me off to a remote location just so you can kill me. Bet you’re just like that sicko Ted Bundy that they got locked up in Florida right now.”

Jungkook’s head snapped over to look at you, disbelief in his wide eyes.

“Holy shit, all I did was change the radio station!”

Keep reading

Beautifully Misfit | 4

SERIES: Hybrid BTS

‣ Genre: fluff, smut, hybrid au

‣ Word Count: 8.5k

‣ Pairing(s): skunk!Jimin x reader, puppy!Taehyung x reader, bunny!Jungkook x reader

‣ Warnings: strong language, Baby Kookie can’t read very well ;(, food porn (I’m not kidding), y/n deadass has a pizza kink, Jimin being tiny, nothing else really

‣ to be aware of: sub!jimin, switch!taehyung, switch!jungkook, dom!reader, some kinky ass future happenings, BDSM themes, some heavy angst, and triggering themes.

Summary: you never really saw yourself as a hybrid person. that is, until your best friend introduces you to his hybrid, and you suddenly find yourself craving the companionship. you only intended to bring home one. somewhere between the lines you ended up with three beautifully misfit hybrids who craved nothing but your love.

part. i, ii, iii, iv, v (coming soon)

A/N; I’m sorry this took so long to get up, i’m a slow writer when I’m not motivated, but yesterday I buckled down and wrote over five thousand words because I was determined to get this part posted for you lovely people. hope you enjoy! lmk if I didn’t tag you and you wanted to be added to the tag list!!

Keep reading

BUNNY TROUBLE | 06

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 

 ― pairing: jeongguk x reader 

― genre: mostly fluff, softness, jungkook dancing lol, disgusting romance!! bunny!jeongguk, (kind of) hybrid!jeongguk, magical wishes, taehyung!best friend, tae being kinda a bitch, swearing, crack/humor lol i tried, more swearing, a tiny bit of subtle angst and SMUT; fat cock!jungkook, handjob, blowjob, subby!koo, whining, whimpers, dry humping, virgin!jungkook

― word count: 4k

― summery: a quick decision to save a hurt bunny on the side of the road might not seem like a big deal to many people. y/n doesn’t think much of it either and decides to take care of the little male rabbit but what she doesn’t expect is when he one night turns into a human and hell breaks loose…  

― a/n: I made a playlist for this series!!

― OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

posted on: April 13, 2020 don’t post/copy my work without my permission ©

You could feel your phone falling out of your hand as Taehyung’s words echoed in your head. The sun rays hitting your face didn’t feel so warm anymore and it was almost like a cold stream washed over you as you sat there, frozen. 

It really was like a wave with emotions hit you and as you looked over at the sweetest boy snoring beside you, you felt your heart break a little. He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed, his long lashes hitting his soft skin as his chest heaved up and down. You wondered quietly how it will feel in a few weeks when your bed will be cold and empty without him… 

Bird’s song outside the window made him stir in his sleep and yawn as he slowly opened his puffy eyes. As soon as he saw you a heartwarming smile broke out on his face and for a few seconds everything in the world was meaningless except this. 

Keep reading