.・゜✩ .・゜✩゜.・゜

(Are you challenging me?! Hahah, here’s some fluff for you, my friend ❤)

DRARRY: NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS

Tags: New Year’s Eve, New Year’s resolutions, fluff, 8th year, very light post-war angst, cuddles.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Read on AO3

~

“Sorry,” Potter mumbled. He was still smiling. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Draco was unable to help himself—he raised his chin and huffed. “I’m not uncomfortable,” he snapped, his voice squeaking pathetically. When Potter raised his eyebrows, he whimpered, “I’m not!”

Potter’s hand stroked the inside of Draco’s thigh, almost still at knee-height, ever so slightly. Not looking away from Draco’s face, Potter pushed his knee to the side and slowly, far too fucking slowly, leaned forward, invading Draco’s personal space.

“Then I guess you won’t mind if I do…”—he crawled all the way onto Draco’s lap—”this.”

As Potter’s fingers tangled in his hair, all common sense left Draco’s mind. He let his leg drop to the floor, his arms blindly wrapping themselves around Potter’s torso as he held onto Potter for dear life. They were so close, Draco wasn’t sure he was breathing anymore.

Potter leaned impossibly closer to him, resting his weight against the arm of the sofa. “May I…”

“Yes,” Draco breathed.

The first brush of their lips felt like melting. A low hum escaped Draco’s throat, and he was mentally getting ready to deny it had ever happened if Potter so much as snorted when suddenly,  the git caught his lower lip between his and gently, oh-so-slowly brushed it with the tip of his tongue.

Their mouths parted with a low sound, and Draco opened his eyes a moment before Potter did. They were barely breathing.

“God, I want you so much,” Potter murmured.

Draco trapped Potter’s hair between his fingers and brought their lips together once more.

“Five minutes!”

He barely heard Patil’s voice as it filled the room around them. He was too busy feeling Potter’s hip against his knee, shivering as their tongues brushed.

It was Potter who ended the kiss. Draco whimpered, but then Potter rested his head on Draco’s chest and, just like that, Draco’s fears for the new year just… seemed a little bit less scary.

Which was scary in itself, because it meant he was far more in love with Potter than he’d thought.

Crap.

“Oi, Blaise!” Finnigan exclaimed. “Seems like you’re going to need to make a new resolution!”

Everyone giggled, and Draco pointedly looked at the hearth, feeling his cheeks heat up once again.

“Ignore them,” Potter murmured so that only Draco could hear him.

Draco let his hand caress the length of Potter’s arm. “Yeah.”

“Two minutes, lads!

Everyone talked at the same time, and Draco almost didn’t hear him when Potter whispered his name against his chest.

“Huh?” He inquired.

Potter craned his neck so he was somewhat looking at Draco’s face from his chest. “What’s your New Year’s resolution?”

That annoying feeling of emptiness came flooding back, and Draco shrugged it off, saying, “I honestly have no idea.”

Potter nodded, a look of understanding on his face.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “I think the only thing that’s certain in my life right now is that I’m head over heels for you.”

Merlin.

“Yeah, I feel that,” Draco replied casually. “Hm, perhaps I should turn you into my New Year’s resolution, too.” He smirked. “Do you think you’re worthy of such an honour?”

Potter’s smile was radiant as he shifted on top of Draco to kiss him again. “Try me.”

“Five!” the Patil twins said at the same time.

“Four!” everyone echoed. “Three! Two! One!”

Potter caught Draco’s mouth with his.

“Happy new year!”

~again, I have very little experience with fluff and au’s, so sorry if this turns out really crappy! draco is sick, and harry comes over from next door to check on him. hope you enjoy!~

~

Draco is in his room, his head braced between his knees as a pounding headache rips his brain apart. Every movement hurt, sending another shockwave through his body, his throat dry and his eyes watery.

He wasn’t even sure what had happened. He had been fine last night - had stayed up late talking with Harry on the rooftop, and now he was stuck in his room and thoroughly miserable.

Draco groans, letting his head rest against the back of the bed, the sunlight hurting his eyes. The apartment was completely silent, Draco’s parents having left for some important holiday to France. They had asked if he wanted to come, but Draco had refused, choosing to stay at home and draw and talk to Harry instead.

They did that a lot, him and Harry, spent hours together, often not even talking. Draco would draw, sets of emerald eyes and midnight hair, and Harry would read, or watch TV. It was a different friendship, one born out of contentment instead of need.

Beside him, Draco feels the phone vibrate underneath his side. He stifles a curse as he reaches over, lifting the face so the screen was revealed. A few lines of text spilled over the screen:

Harry: hey. You free?

Draco shakes his head, a small smile appearing on his lips as he types back.

Draco: Yeah. Ish. Kinda sick right now

Harry: sick?

Draco: Sick.

Harry: parents back home yet?

Draco: Ooh, scandalous. Trying to kidnap me, Potter?

Harry: too much work. coming over, chill out

Draco: Fine. Key under boot rack

Harry: yep

Draco laughs, softly, dropping the phone beside him as he lies back down on the covers of his bed. He closes his eyes, the darkness blissful against the headache.

When he opens his eyes again, Harry is standing there, a glass of water in his hand. “Hey.” He sets the water down, onto the bedside table, as he sits on the bed in front of Draco. “You good?”

“Feel like shit,” Draco snaps, burrowing his face into the pillows again. “Why are you here again?”

Harry rolls his eyes, one hand idly reaching up to brush the hair from Draco’s face. “Please. You are so happy I came.”

Draco can’t bother to reply, sticking a hand out to flip Harry off, before turning over on his side. Harry just laughs, shaking his head, before standing up and adjusting the blankets around Draco. “You need anything?”

“Can you close the blind?” Draco mumbles, the sunlight in his eyes. He intended to be sacastic, but to his surprise, Harry actually stands up, closing the blinds before sitting back down at the edge of the bed. “Thanks.”

Harry just shrugs. “No worries.” He looks down at Draco, a small smirk on his face, before pulling out his phone. “You just chill there for a bit, okay?”

Draco nods, closing his eyes. It was strange, having someone fuss over him that much. His own parents would never - his mother refusing to even be in the room with him in case it was “contagious” and his father too busy to pay attention.

A small flutter appears in Draco’s stomach, the green of Harry’s eyes filling his vision, and Draco blinks furiously. Stupid sickness.

He shifts, pulling the blanket with him, and Harry practically leaps of the bed. “Here, let me help.”

Draco snorts, his face mashed up against the pillow. “I’m happy you came? Jeez Harry, you’re like a mother hen!”

Harry ignores him, shoving the phone into his pocket, forcing the glass of water in his hand. “Drink it. You’re probably dehydrated.” He frowns down at Draco, at the paleness of his skin. “Yeah, you look hungry too. I’m going to get you something to eat.”

Draco rolls his eyes, placing the (empty) glass of water next to him. “Ooh, a personal chef? Get me some caviar?”

Harry sighs, walking over to the door. “Caviar isn’t good for sick people. It’s too rich. I’ll make you some toast.”

As he leaves, Draco shouts out, “Can you put clotted cream and butter on it?”

Harry’s reply is faint, but clear. “Go fuck yourself, Malfoy!”

Draco laughs, pulling the blanket tighter around him, as he worms deeper into the warmth. Things were always better when Harry was there.

A word springs from the depths of his mind, but he ignores it, chasing the feeling deeper into the silence of sleep.

~

Harry leans against the counter, one hand raking through his already untidy hair. He glances over, at the toaster, before looking up at the open door of Draco’s room. With a sigh, he takes out his phone, pulling up his search history:

How to tell when you are falling in love with someone.

~okay, so apparently my super crappy drarry sick muggle au somehow was actually decent. so, this is my attempt at part 2. again, sorry if this is bad or anything - I really can’t do fluff!!~

Tagging: (just people who seemed interested in it in Part 1) @stevecarlsbergstolemycookies @shelbylpierson @slytherwitches @princessofweirdos @thatmadwomaninthelibrary @scarheaded-ferret @blackpinkdolan

~

He was honestly getting tired of Harry’s fussing.

Two days, shut up in the house, lying in bed as Harry brought him tea and toast and generally spoiled him. He wasn’t allowed out of bed, wasn’t allowed to do anything but sit in bed and stare at the ceiling, while Harry played on his phone.

It was driving Draco crazy, having Harry this close, and yet so far.

It was small things - the careful way he stirred the sugar into Draco’s tea (four tablespoons and a splash of milk), the sunlight gleaming in his hair as he adjusted the blinds, the feeling of his wrist against Draco’s face as he checked his temperature. He wished he had his sketch pad, wished he was good enough to translate this feeling into something tangible.

Draco scowls at the heat in his cheeks. It’s the fever, he tells himself. It’s the fever.

He almost sighs with relief when he hears the door open, Harry’s steady footsteps filling the room. Draco props himself up on unsteady elbows, rolling his eyes as Harry sets the tray down and rushes over to slide pillows underneath him. “For the last fucking time, Potter. I’m okay.”

Harry just shrugs, adding liberal amounts of sugar to Draco’s tea. “Who says I’m doing this for you? I’m getting paid for this, doorknob.”

Draco glares down at the mug proffered to him. “Tea? Again? Why?”

Harry smiles, holding the mug out until Draco takes it, his fingers brushing against Draco’s. “Because. When you’re sick, you lose a lot of fluids. You need to keep hydrated, otherwise it’s harder to recover.”

Draco groans. “Who told you that?”

Harry shrugs. “Fucking Wikipedia.”

Draco arches his eyebrow, letting the warmth of the tea seep into his chilled fingers. “You’re fucking Wikipedia?”

“Is that jealousy I detect?”

With an eye roll, Draco sips the tea, the sweetness overcoming the budding headache. He stretches, his back cracking, warm and comfortable in his bed, as Harry lets his gaze fall over his room.

It’s very messy. Pads of paper lying on the ground, paint and watercolor stacked on boxes, pencils and things of ink on top of crumpled sweaters and socks. Harry sighs, rubbing the back of his neck (Draco trying not to peak at the small sliver of skin where his shirt rode up) “I would clean this up but - “

“Yeah.” With a smile, Draco places the empty mug on his nightstand. “That’s like…third date territory. We might as well be dating.”

It’s meant to be an offhand comment, but Harry flushes and looks down. Draco curses, his insides shriveling up. He had hidden that part of himself for so long, the only secret that his parents did not know, and here he was, vomiting out all of his wishes to Harry. He shakes his head, cursing himself. “Oh, shit, sorry Harry, I - “

Harry interrupts him, pulling out a random sketchbook. “Can I see?”

Draco feels like he’s on the edge of a cliff, staring down into emerald green waters as the waves beat against the shore. It’s oddly intimate, letting Harry see his drawings, almost like handing Harry the key to his mind and letting him rummage through. Harry hesitates, quickly setting the book down. “Oh. Sorry. I-I mean I don’t have too, I was just…curious.”

Draco takes a deep breath and jumps. “It’s fine. You can look.” He winces. “They’re…um. They’re pretty crappy. Some of them, anyways.”

Harry just glances at him, green eyes meeting silver. “How could I think that anything you do is crappy?”

It’s as if he’s swallowed something. A lump appears in his throat, suffocating him, as Draco forces a tiny smile. It’s lost, though, as Harry sits next to him, crossing his legs underneath him, and opens the sketchbook.

The first page is nothing, just a few splotches of ink and a streak of charcoal. The pages are yellowed, slightly wrinkled, as Harry flips the page.

It’s mainly sketches, a bottle, a champagne glass, broken glass and the night sky. There are other things too - intertwined hands and fingers through hair and bodies pressed together, all spines and legs and necks.

Harry stops on one page, a small drawing of two people kissing. It’s blurry, a smear of lead, but it’s obvious that they’re two boys, dark hair mixing with light, against a wall, snow coming down in buckets around them. “When did…when did you draw this?”

Draco shrugs. “Don’t know. Can’t be bothered to put a date.”

He swallows, hard, trying to gauge Harry’s reaction. His face is set, teeth worrying at his lip, and Draco’s heart leaps into his throat. Please, let him be okay, don’t make him go, please let him be okay.

The silence stretches, thick and heavy, like strings of golden syrup on a hot day. He tastes blood in his mouth, and realizes that he’s bitten through his cheek, copper filling his mouth, and Draco curses. “You know.”

Harry looks up. “Know what?”

Draco sighs. “Oh, don’t bullshit me Harry. You know what…what I feel. Anyone who looks at this knows what I feel.”

Harry’s voice is too light, too careful. “What exactly do you feel?”

“I…” Draco closes his eyes. “Goddamn it. I’m not good with words, Harry. If I could just draw it - “

He feels a pencil being pressed into his hand, Harry’s face still emotionless. “Then draw it, Draco.”

So he does.

It’s small things, dozens of sketches. Mugs of tea, sugar spread over the table, splotches of milk and jam and cream. An empty house, the silence that presses down, the disapproval and the glares. Rooftops, nights spent talking and laughing. He draws the sunset, the first time they met, and the sunrise, the first time they actually stopped to talk. He draws a narrow bed, a dark haired boy next to a light haired boy, and he draws the way their hands touch. He draws laughter and contentment, swear words intertwined like fingers, and he draws a pair of silver eyes, catching onto a pair of green ones. An entire page of this, small details, his entire heart spilled out in lead on paper.

Draco holds his breath as he hands the paper to Harry. “This. This is what I feel.”

There’s silence again, agonizing and unending, and then Harry sighs, puts the paper down and kisses Draco.

It’s a soft kiss, a brushing of lips, Harry’s fingers coming up to tangle in Draco’s hair. It’s light, careful, spider silk in the wind, and Draco is smiling against Harry’s lips as he kisses him again and again, sunlight spilling down on them.

When they finally break apart, Harry’s eyes are wide, his hands brushing over his own lips. “I never thought….”

Draco shakes his head. “Me neither.”

Harry smiles. “I thought you were straight.”

Draco raises an eyebrow, unable to keep the grin off his face. “I always knew you were gay.”

Harry whacks him with a pillow, laughing, as Draco pulls him down again into another kiss. “Next time, I’m drawing this.”

“Draco, what the hell are you doing?” Draco groaned as Harry came to stand next to him, hands on his hips and a thunderous expression on his face.

“Studying. I have exams tomorrow you know that.” He muttered, though what he really wanted to say was please shut the fuck up, sounds feel like a drill against the inside of my skull.

“Draco, you have a fever. I left you alone for the briefest of moments because I had a work emergency and I come back to you out of bed! Studying! You can’t do that when you’re sick Draco.” Harry snatched his pen away and pointed at him with it. “You get back in bed right now before I make you. And I won’t hear of any exams until you’re properly back on your feet again, understood?”

“It’s just a bit of a cold Harry.” Draco argued even as he winced in pain from all the sounds and the cramp in his muscles. “Just let me be for a bit. I’ll sleep in after I did my potions exams. They only give those once a year, I could get study delay if I don’t show up well prepared tomorrow.”

“Draco. Bed. Now.” Harry resolutely pointed at the door of his study, glaring at him with some sort of motherly overprotectiveness in his eyes. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“You’re not my mother.” Draco tried as some sort of last resort. Proper arguing was difficult when his brain was pulsing with pain though. Plus, he was dead tired. “I can make my own-,”

“Clearly you can’t if you’re sitting here right now instead of lying in bed.” Harry countered before he’d even finished. Draco sighed, knowing it was a losing battle, and let his eyes fall shut. Immediately his head fell sideways from exhaustion, though of course Harry was right there to catch him. He felt his lovers strong arms around him and was already nearly asleep two seconds later. “You don’t have to push yourself like this, Draco. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone. So when you’re sick please just let yourself get some rest.”

“Fine.” Draco muttered, faintly aware of Harry lifting him off his chair and carrying him back to bed. The cool sheets were a blessing to his heated skin, the dark room a rest for sore eyes. But mostly Harry stroking his forehead, bringing him tea and whispering nice things was the cause of him feeling better. His boyfriend was very good at that. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Harry smiled down on him, though Draco couldn’t really see as his eyes were too tired to focus. He could feel it though, in the way Harry squeezed his hand before lying down next to him. “I quite like playing the mother hen for you, makes me feel a bit like Mrs. Weasley.”

“As long as you don’t fully turn into her.” Draco chuckled through the pain and misery, tucking himself neatly against Harry. “I’d hate to be scared of my own boyfriend.”  

Harry snorted. “Not to worry love, I’m not woman enough to scare you.”

Draco wanted to protest that, until he remembered that he was pretty much scared of every woman he knew. His mum, Mrs. Weasley, Pansy, Hermione, Ginny, Millicent, even Luna when she put her mind to it. Maybe that was why he was gay. And then he stopped thinking because it made his headache that much worse.

“Sleep tight, my love.” Harry kissed the top of his head and pulled him closer. “We’ll see what we’ll do tomorrow when that day arrives. Until then you just rest.”

Draco faintly smiled against Harry’s chest. “Yes mum.”

And just a few seconds later, he was fast asleep.

Draco groaned as Pansy dragged him down to the common room. “Come on,” She said. “You’ve been in your room studying all day. You could use a break.”

“Playing Would You Rather with the Gryffindors isn’t my idea of a break.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be such a spoil sport. Besides,” She smiled smugly. “Potter’ll be there.”

Draco scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “And why should I care about that?”

Pansy shot him a you’re not kidding anyone look.

When they arrived in the common room, everyone looked up. Hermione smiled when she spotted Draco and waved him over. They’d become closer over the coarse of the year, after he’d apologized to her of course. As it turned out, they had a lot in common.

Once they were seated, Hermione clapped her hands. “Okay, so basically you get two scenarios and pick which one you’d rather do. If you don’t wanna answer, you have to take a shot.” She raised the bottle of firewhiskey that was next to her.

“And here I was, thinking you were such a goody two shoes.” Pansy commented.

Hermione let out a small laugh. “Please, I set a professor’s robes on fire in my first year. I was never a goody two shoes.”

Pansy chuckled, leaning into Hermione’s shoulder. “Now I’m curious to know what other things you did.”

Hermione grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Can you two stop flirting so we can get on with the game?” Harry groaned. Draco, who had previously been staring intently at his hands, looked up. Their eyes locked for a moment before they both looked away.

“Right.” A blush appeared on Hermione’s cheeks. “Let’s begin.”

The game went on for a couple of minutes before Pansy sunk her claws into Draco. She smiled mischievously and Draco felt like he knew what was coming. “Would you rather give a blow job to a chainsaw while it’s on or,” She paused, looking over at Harry. “Give one to Potter.” Harry choked on his drink and went into a coughing fit. Ron had to pat him on the back several times for it to stop.

Harry: Malfoy

Draco: What?

Harry: *stroking Draco’s hair who is laying in his lap* I think I love you

Draco: Stop saying stupid fucking nonsense, Potter

Harry: *stops stroking Draco’s hair*

Draco: Did I tell you to stop playing with my hair?

Harry: Right- No! Sorry- Sorry

Paring(s): Draco Malfoy / Harry Potter

Warnings: None (?)

Word Count: 1128

Summary: Lucius randomly gifts Draco a straightening iron in hopes that his dear son would do something about his ‘unfortunate’ curly hair. Draco almost goes through with it before his boyfriend, Harry, enters the room. Feeling weak and disappointed in himself, Harry comforts him and ensures that he’s much stronger than he gives himself credit for.

——

‘Draco,

I can sense you warming up to your precious Potter. Allowing him to see the “real” you. You mustn’t, son. It is nothing to be proud of. It is time you willingly let go of the unfortunate Black family curls your mother forced upon you. It brings the Malfoy name into horrendous disrepute. Consider this a gift.

                                                                              Father,’

read the note left upon a box that inside held a black hair straightener.

Draco sighed.

Lucius Malfoy was an incredibly difficult man whom could never seem to look past the fact that everything he envisioned for his son, Draco, contradicted the entirety of who he truly was. Despite this gradual realization throughout the years, Lucius continued his attempts at molding Draco into his idea of what the perfect Malfoy should resemble, which did work for quite a while. But, now that Draco no longer lives with his parents, Lucius is incapable of forcing that lifestyle upon him.

Draco may have never understood all that his father wanted him to be, but he never questioned it, either. His father was his father, and he would never suspect that he’d do anything to trouble his own son. Though, much of what he thrusted upon him did in fact cause quite a bit of damage to Draco in the end, whether it was intentional or not.

Once Draco settled into his and Harry’s new home, he slowly became much less conscious about what he looked like or how 'proper’ he should act in casual settings. He hadn’t touched a single hair sleeking potion or muggle straightening product in months. They haven’t even been a passing thought. He was able to let loose and take time to try and understand what the hell happened during the past 18 years of his life.

Though now, as his father went so far as to stoop onto muggle territory just to try and reinforce such a trivial, in his opinion, look associated with the Malfoy name, he’s mildly considering it.

'Come on. For old times sake,’ he thought.

Draco opened the box as he sat down on the floor in his shared bedroom in front of their large mirrored wall. He began to read and follow the fine print on the back of the box.

'Plug in your iron and flick the switch to “on.”

Wait until it heats up.

Place the straightener as close to the roots as possible.

Clamp the iron down.

Run the flat iron down the length of your section of hair.

Run the straightener over the section up to 2-3 times.’

An incredibly hot styling tool was currently in his hand while at a dangerously close proximity to his face, and in short terms, Draco had absolutely no idea what the fuck he was doing.

He focused intensely on the iron, attempting to ensure that he doesn’t burn himself. Though that was quickly destroyed with one abrupt opening of their bedroom door.

“Hey Draco, have you seen my-”

“Fuck!” Draco swore as he was caught wildly off guard, the startled jump causing him to clamp the iron on his fingers instead of his hair.

“Oh shit-,” Harry swiftly went to unplug the straightening iron then leapt to grab it from the floor where it had landed after Draco unintentionally let it out of his grasp. He set it down far away from where Draco was sitting to allow it to cool down before any more damage was caused. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Promise.”

Small areas on his fingers were a bit red due to the burn, though it wasn’t kept on long enough for it to cause any bad damage to his skin, thankfully. Harry left quickly to fetch some ice in a small cloth to sooth it.

“Where did you get a straightening iron from?” He began as he sat down in front of Draco. “Why were you using it? Love, I thought you were starting to warm up to this aspect of you,” he continued, pushing the strand of hair covering Draco’s eye back so they could see each other properly as he let Draco place the covered ice on his wound.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, it’s just-,” he paused for a moment and looked down at the note in his lap. He let out a hard breath, closing his eyes for a second, then reopening them. “It’s Father. He sent it in hopes that I’d use it to return to the way he made me appear back when he had control over that.” He laughed a bit in spite of himself. “Suppose I was right in my suspicion of being the weak one. Never being able to stand up to my wretched dad even when I know he doesn’t deserve anything I have to offer. ” He continued. Looking away from Harry as he handed over his fathers note.

“Hey,” Harry reassured, gripping Draco’s free hand whilst briefly skimming over Lucius’ note. “He’s wrong about you. You know that? You’re much more than just your curly hair or last name. You’re the boy who lived as something he’s not for years, and came out alive and more yourself than anyone ever thought there was. You were literally the youngest death eater, who had Voldemort himself asking you to do things he knew you were too good to do, just so he could have the right to kill you. But here you are. You survived the Dark fucking Lord’s bullshit, Draco. You did that. All on your own.”

“Sure, but so did you.”

“But that’s the thing! I didn’t, Dray. I fucking died! I’m only here because of the resurrection stone. I also had plenty of help from basically everyone who wasn’t on Voldemort’s side, which was plenty. Either way, we’re both here. And I’m proud of you.” Harry gave him a soft smile before wrapping his arms around Draco’s waste and nuzzling his head in the crook of his neck.

Draco looked down at Harry’s figure as he rested his arm around his form. After a few seconds, he gently lifted his chin off of his shoulder so he could see his face, glancing back and forth between his eyes and lips.

Draco let out a small laugh. “Can’t believe I fell for Harry fucking Potter,” he said before closing the gap between them as his lips pressed softly against Harry’s. Hands lightly grasping the sides Harry’s face as it deepened.

Harry rolled his eyes as they pulled away, resting his head against Draco’s shoulder. Hand in his hair, twirling the blond curls between his fingers as he looked up at him lovingly.

“I love you, Dragon boy.” Harry laughed.

Draco shook his head with a smile.

Ron: *blushes* I-

Draco: Harry is doing great! He’s taking a nap in my room as we speak

Ron:

Hermione:

Ron: I believe she was talking about me-

Okay, so FIRST OFF, I am absolutely obsessed with Draco and the Slytherins gang right now. Like, OBSESSED. So, I decided to try writing a very fluffy, very silly fic featuring Pansy and Blaise for the first time! It’s kinda dumb, but I hope you like it!!

~

“I want a drink.”

Draco glances down, where the three of them were sprawled on the huge leather sofa in front of the fire. Him, Pansy and Blaise, Pansy’s head in his lap and Draco leaning against Blaise’s shoulder, the only Slytherins who bothered to return for 8th year.

It was surreal, coming back, that huge weight that hung over him suddenly gone. The castle was damaged, cracks in the walls, shattered windows, scorch marks on the stone and destroyed furniture, echoes of the battle almost 3 months ago. Only a few of them came back, those in 8th head, and apparently McGonagall decided that the best thing to do was to stick them all in one dorm, where the screaming wouldn’t wake up the entire castle at night.

It was the unspoken rule, the screaming. Everyone had nightmares, scars, would wake up shivering in their beds. They had all gotten good at silencing charms, one around their bed, one around their room and one around their dorm. They all found ways to cope, when the panic and terror settled in.

Draco turns, the edges of Blaise’s hair brushing his cheek. Slytherins, the only 3, him and Pansy and Blaise. They had grown used to it, the glares and the taunts, the curses thrown when no one was looking.

How do you deal with it, Harry had asked him one night. How do you deal with the fact that all of them could kill you in an instant?

Draco had shrugged, tracing lines over Harry’s bare chest. You stand taller. You smirk back. You hit harder, hit smarter, and you never let the bastards see you cry.

They had all changed, it more ways then one, trying so hard to fit the shattered pieces together. Pansy has cut her hair, just above her chin, Blaise weaving his into dreadlocks. Draco had gotten tattoos, covering his mark, turning the hard edges into something soft. They were still Slytherins, after all. Still royalty, though they had been stuck so low.

He’s distracted by Pansy, yanking at his hair. The common room was empty, the night wheeling into morning. “Did you hear me? I want a goddamn drink.”

With a flick of his wand, Blaise summons a glass of water, filling it up with some sort of juice. It levitates in the air, reflecting the light from the fire, casting patterns over the dark walls and carpets. Pansy rolls her eyes. “No, I mean - “

Blaise stabs his wand forwards, the glass giving a violent jerk and splashing all over Pansy’s shirt. She shrieks, jumping off the couch, throughly soaked in freezing fluid. “You fucktard!” With a snarl, she waves her wand at herself, the stain lightening. “This is an Akrivós shirt, dumbass! Probably costs more then your entire wardrobe and Malfoy’s combined.”

Blaise doesn’t even bother to look up from his book. “Highly doubt that, sweetheart. I have expensive taste.”

Pansy bares her teeth “I swear, if you don’t fix this, I will personally curse your fucking balls off - “

“What balls?” Draco raises an eyebrow, stretching out on the couch. “I wasn’t aware Blaise had any.”

“Bullshit.” Blaise hums, an elegant smile curving over his face as he leans back. “You seemed to enjoy sucking them, back in fifth year.”

Pansy groans. “Can we not?”

Draco just laughs. Fifth year was odd, a whirlwind, the last of the relaxing days before Voldemort came. He tried dating Pansy, for about 4 months, before realizing that he preferred guys. Him and Blaise shagged on and off for a month or two, before they called it quits.

“What can I say? I was experimenting.”

“Nope.” Blaise mutters, flicking his page. “You were horny.”

Pansy sighs dramatically, flopping back down into Draco’s lap. “Whatever. I just want a fucking drink. A proper one, dickwad.” she adds, glaring at Blaise. He just stretches out, long legs kicking Draco hard on the ribs. “You’re the fancy dude. Get us something.”

Draco shakes his head. “Don’t have access to the wine cellars. Besides, it’s probably all gone now. Father drinking himself to death.”

“Bullshit,” Pansy mutters. “Utter and complete bullshit.”

“When is it ever anything else?” Blaise kicks Draco again. “Seriously, get something good.”

Draco glares at the two of them, ruefully rubbing his ribs. “Traitors. When did you two team up? Where’s my devotion? My admiration? My loyalty? You’re reaching inside me and ripping me apart.”

Pansy rolls her eyes. “You’re a dumbass, Draco. The only thing inside you is pure dickheaded stupidity.”

Blaise smirks. “The only thing inside you is Potter’s dick.”

Draco shoves Pansy off her lap, ignoring her yelp. “Jealous, Blaise?”

Blaise cocks his head. “Of what? You fucking Potter?” He winks. “Extending an invitation? Thanks, I’ll pass.”

“You’re a real dick you know Zabini.”

Blaise laughs. “I’m told it’s my best characteristic.”

Pansy lets out an indignant noise, stretching out on the floor. “I’m serious, Draco, if I don’t get something to drink, I’m going to fucking lose it.” She pauses. “And it better be something decent, and not that crappy muggle shit you brought last time.”

Draco is about to respond when he hears a knock on the door. For a moment, they all tense, the three of them, wands drawn in half a heartbeat. They relax, though, when a head of messy black hair pokes around the corner, emerald green eyes scowling at the lot of them.

He supposed it’s funny, that all of them could react that fast, but all he can feel is his heart pounding in his chest, the taste of metal in his mouth. He collapses back on the sofa, Harry sliding in next to him. “Parkinson. Zabini.”

“Draco’s ride.” Pansy mutters, leaning her head against Blaise’s legs. He swats at her, swearing, and she smiles. “How’s everything, little Potty? Fame getting to your head?”

Blaise shrugs. “More like Draco’s giving him head.” Draco rolls his eyes, hitting Blaise, who only smirks. Harry lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Sadly, no. Though, I’m sure you’d love to see my head explode.”

Draco laughs. “Nah. Too much clean up.” He glares at Blaise. “Shut up. Don’t say what you were going to say.”

Blaise scoffs, closing his mouth, as Pansy sighs. “Look, Potty. We’re having a very important conversation here, so unless you have anything to contribute - “

With a superior look on his face, Harry places 4 bottles onto the table. “Ménos. Best I could find.”

Pansy reacts instantly, snatching two off the table and standing up. “Ooh, good stuff.” She smirks. “Come on Blaise, let’s leave the love bugs. Give them some…privacy.” She blows a kiss to Harry. “You are now my favorite person.”

The corner of Blaise’s mouth turns up, a look of amusement padding over his face as he snags another botttle. “Thanks, Harry.” He winks. “Maybe I’ll take you up on it, Draco. Join you two some time.” He’s gone before Draco can throw something at him.

Alone in the privacy of the room, Harry’s eyes glint. Draco smiles as he pulls Harry down, kissing him hard as one hand reaches up to bury in his hair. “I love you, you know.”

- harry doesn’t really care where they go but draco insists on learning muggle culture

- because he knows how big of a part it played in harry’s life before hogwarts

- and he wants to know all parts of harry. even the muggle part of him

- and draco gets annoyed and impatient when he doesn’t understand something or takes to long in figuring something out

- but harry is extra patient with him and shows him how to do the stuff

- and draco is just absolutely enamoured by his boyfriend and wants to just push him against a wall and kiss the life out of him

- but he has to be patient because he doesn’t want to cause a scene and give all those muggles a show to watch

- and then harry figures out wat draco is thinking and wants to leave early ( like halfway through a game of mini golf or something)

- but no, draco wants to stay and see it through to the end

- harry then getting impatient but he can’t really do anything about it

- because apparating in the middle of a muggle filled area was surely going cause a lot of chaos

- and harry enjoyed not being in the centre of all the chaos or anything really like he was when he went out anywhere in wizarding london

- and so ge just let draco do his thing

- and enjoyed gazing at his beautiful blonde boyfriend

- and thing to himself that there was no one he’d rather be with and no where else that he’d rather be

- because the only one who mattered in his life was right there in front of him desperately trying to get the stupid tiny mini golf ball past the stupid obstacle and into the stupid hole

- after a couple of tries, it does go in

- and draco starts jumping up and down wildly, flailing his arms about and celebrating that he did it

- on the sideline, harry grins softly

- harry and ginny broke up because they wanted different things

- ginny is now the newest chaser for the holyhead harpies

- harry wanted to go back to school and finish because he doesn’t know what he wants to do

- because being an auror would be cool and all but he doesn’t want to go into a job just because he beat the dark lord and all that crap

- but they decide to stay friends because they’ve helped each other grow and become their own people

- ginny was also the first person harry told he was bisexual

- and she was so fully accepting of him that it also made him come out to ron and hermione and the rest of the wizarding world

- the only down side to that, was that now at school, not only girls but also boys would through themselves at harry trying to get a piece of the boy who lived

- and harry as always hated it so much he’d literally only spend time in the library with hermione, in the greenhouse with neville or the quidditch pitch alone

- ron has decided not to come back to school because he never really liked it much

- he was now helping out george at weasleys wizarding wheezes and having the time of his life

- harry made sure that he has at least one friend in every class, so that he doesn’t have to be crowded by any doting fans who are with him in class

- let’s be real tho, that doesnt really work because they still crowd around him until hermione just gives them her meanest dirtiest glare and everyone just scatters as though mcgonagall was coming around the corner to give them detention

- eventually harry gets bored of spending his time in only these three places and decides that if he’s alone he might as well make something of it

- so he starts spending time in the potions classroom in the dungeons to use this time to actually improve his potion making skills

- he’s super frustrated in the beginning, not getting it and making a mess and failing all the time

- little did he know, that slughorn had been watching him and hatching a plan

- so slughorn goes and talks to the best potions student he knows in school - draco

- he tells draco that the dungeons are always open for him to practice his potion making so that he doesn’t lose his touch for it

- draco takes up this advice and walks to the dungeons only to see harry there with his head in his hands cursing himself after another failed potion

- he immediately turns around and walks away, unable to face the boy who saved his life, the boy he’s had feelings for for most of his life

- he thinks to himself that he’ll just come back another time

- but every time he goes there over the next week, harry is always there and always failing

- and this starts to annoy draco

- so one day, instead of walking away he walks into the classroom, exactly where harry was sitting

- he nudges harry to the side and looks at the potion, immediately spitting harry’s mistake

- in his way of communicating with harry he snidely tells him that chopping and crushing are not the same thing and harry should have really learnt that long ago

- harry finds it rather astonishing, that he boy who hated him for most of his life, the boy who may have made him realize his bisexuality, was actually standing there and helping him

- “are you just gonna stand there looking like a git or are you going to correct your mistake?”

- harry getting flustered and hurriedly vanishing the fail in his cauldron to get started again

- and then it becomes a daily thing

- harry spends less time with neville and hermione and more with draco

- and his friends see this but aren’t offended but harry actually looks like he is happy now and not just the hollow person that he was after the war

- harry and draco had slowly become friends, getting to know each other without their blind hatred and prejudices coming in the way

- one day when harry and draco are making a potion, harry mentions in passing, that catching the snitch alone over and over has started to get boring and that he had to now think of something new

- “you up for a challenge potter?”

- “what are you suggesting malfoy?”

- the two of them then play a quidditch one on one and have so much fun

- coming back down after their 10th or so quidditch session, draco plucks up the courage to peck harry on the lips

- “what the fuck was that malfoy?”

- “take of it what you will potter”

- harry doesn’t reply and draco storms off feeling rejected

- the two of them ignore each other

- “mione he kissed me i’m not ready for that”

- “so tel him that you idiot. tell him that you like him but you want to go slow”

- harry then seeks out malfoy, finding him in the potions classroom where they had spent so much of their time this year together

- “i heard your conservation with granger”

- “oh yeah, what did you hear?”

- “i like you too potter and if you wanna take this slow then that’s fine with me”

- “why do you have to be so nice about this malfoy?”

- their relationship starts out awkward and embarrassing until both of them are absolutely comfortable with each other

- and then it’s literally impossible to see one without the other

- they’re literally together the entire time

- and then the end of 8th year comes

- harry isn’t really nervous about his potions NEWTs because he knows that all his studying with malfoy had paid off

- he doesn’t have the best grade, scrapes by with a satisfactory but he couldn’t be happier

- he still doesn’t know what he wants to do for the rest of his life

- but he knows that he wants draco to be there wherever he is

- and draco wants that too

- kill me now this is so cheesy

Bonus: