#actorpotter

I Do Not Strut

Word count: 162

Read and comment here on Ao3! **

“I can’t believe how stubborn you can be sometimes, Potter—”

“Me?! That’s rich, coming from someone whose holier-than-thou attitude hasn’t changed since the day I met them.”

Malfoy scoffed. “’Holier-than-thou’ attitude?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Come on now, don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You strut around like you own the place—doesn’t even matter where we are! First Hogwarts, now the ministry…”

“I do not strut.”

Harry let out a loud guffaw. “Malfoy, I can assure you that you do in fact strut. Sometimes I can’t even tell the difference between you and one of those pretentious white peacocks you grew up with.”

It was Malfoy’s turn to narrow his eyes. He stood there for a few moments, trying to speak, but his mouth just kept opening and closing like a gaping goldfish. Finally, Draco snapped his mouth shut, turned on his heel and stomped away, the snow crunching loudly underneath his boots with every step…

My 2021 adventure! Silver Devil in a Blue Dress featuring trans/gender fluid Draco (chosen name: Dragana) Step one: Jan-July “The Real One” (The story I really want to write)

Step two: August-December “The Legal One” (The novel I can legally publish)

(Image Description Below) ** As Draco closed the door to the kitchen, he leaned his back against the door and closed his eyes. He stood there for a few seconds, allowing the solid wood to hold him in place as he tried to calm his racing heart with some deep breaths. Emotions were hard for Draco. All of them. Sometimes they were so overwhelming he couldn’t even understand what they were, where they were coming from or why they were screaming SO loudly…

When he’d read Harry’s words…his “declaration” of sorts, Draco couldn’t believe it at first. He thought his eyes were blurring the letters and confusing him, but the look of clear vulnerability on Harry’s face made him realize that he’d made no mistake. Harry had purposefully illusioned the titles to become the letters he needed to tell Draco that he…he loved him.

Draco smiled, the thought of Harry loving him sent shivers of warmth and pleasure up and down his spine. He’d also been thinking…the way their friendship had been developing since 8th year and the last few months since living together…Draco had often wondered if Harry also felt butterflies in his stomach when they both lay on the couch, legs grazing each other as they listened to Quidditch games live on the wireless. Or if Harry also got goosebumps watching him walk from the bathroom to his bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He had wondered if…no, he had hoped Harry also felt that extra layer of connection between them, that sense of “all will be well” and “this just feels right” when they were together. Despite the certainty in his feelings for Harry, Draco couldn’t stop the barrage of doubts and worries flooding his mind. This must be some elaborate prank. He can’t possibly love me…it took so much for us to just become friends; how could I possibly entertain the idea that he could really…actually… love me?

Draco shook his head before the thoughts could get too loud and start spiraling. “He loves me.” Draco said aloud, testing the words in his mouth, and opened his eyes. His gaze immediately landed on the coffee machine. Right, coffee! Draco thought.

(Image description below) ** Harry was sitting underneath the Christmas tree, admiring all the beautiful presents that had been collecting there over the past couple of weeks. A bright red package with white string caught his eye, and Harry reached out to grab it, placing it in his lap. He traced his fingers along the smooth paper and played with the strings a little before shaking it gently once. ~thump~

Harry grinned. He had no idea what could be inside, but knowing Draco…

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Harry turned around to see Draco standing in the doorway to the living room, his arms folded in mock-sternness but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

“Not peeking at your presents, are you?” Draco raised an eyebrow and clucked his tongue in playful disapproval...

Read and comment here on Ao3!

Word count: 463 CW: mentions of bondage and light power play **

Image Description (Early Bird Prompt O):

(Image Description Below) ** “So you’ve never played before? Not once?” Harry knew the answer. He was only stalling. Draco and Harry were sitting on the living room floor of their shared flat, a soft carpet underneath them and couch pillows around them for support. A fire crackled in the fireplace, filling the room with a steady warmth and a relaxing home-sweet-home kind of feeling. On most other nights, at least. Hopefully Harry’s voice wasn’t too shaky and wouldn’t give him away before he had a chance to—

“Nope. You know we didn’t have any Muggle games around the house growing up.”

“Ah. Right.”

Harry held the top of the cloth bag securely closed and shook it, mixing the Scrabble tiles inside. He offered the bag to Draco and said, “Close your eyes and pick seven letters.”

Draco did as he was told. When he was finished, Harry retrieved his own letters, making a little bit of a show of giving the tiles an extra mix before picking out seven. Not that it matters anyway, he thought, biting his lip. He picked out seven tiles and placed them on the tile rack in front of him.

“And now I try and make a word out of this, right?”

Summary: Draco prepares a romantic bubble bath for Valentine's Day...

**

Draco uncorked the bottle, relishing the little ~pop~ that echoed off the walls of the bathroom. It was still smoking slightly, as he had only just finished brewing it a few moments ago. He reached his arm over the tub and poured a generous amount into the rushing water. The liquid potion immediately transformed into thousands upon thousands of bubbles. 

With a satisfied smile, Draco turned to light the red candle he’d infused with a few drops of his most powerful Amortentia potion.  He struck the muggle match, his hair standing on end at the sizzling sound, and brought flame to wick. The smell of treacle tart, the wood of a broom handle, and vanilla filled his nostrils. After extinguishing the match, he sank into the steaming tub and disappeared under the bubbles.

He let out an elongated sigh, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the feeling of the hot water prickling against his skin. The bubbles enveloped and caressed him, their soft kisses encouraging him to sink deeper into the water.

“You haven’t started without me, have you?” 

The voice came from the doorway, and Draco opened one eye to peek at Harry. His lover was stripped bare, the candle casting shadows on his beautifully toned body—Harry joining a Quidditch Club had been an excellent idea, in Draco’s opinion.

“Come in,” Draco murmured, spreading his legs. 

Harry settled into the tub, leaning against Draco who eagerly wrapped his arms around him. 

“Why does the entire room smell like you?”

Draco snorted. “The Amortentia candle,” he explained.

Harry chuckled. “Well, that explains it. Happy Valentine’s Day.” Harry tilted his head back, and Draco tenderly pressed his lips to Harry's. 

"Happy Valentine's Day."  **

“Harry! We’re here.”

Harry noticed Draco was standing in front of a shop. A tea shop. The sign read “Madam Puddifoot’s,” though it didn’t look like the same pink monstrosity Harry remembered.

“You’re…joking.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “I most certainly am not.”

“You know I have bad memories here…”

“And?”

“And…well…it kinda messes up the vibe of the date, doesn’t it?”

Draco shook his head. “Stubborn Gryffindor. Look!” Draco pointed to the lovely brown-wood exterior and a shiny metal sign that jutted off the side of the wall, depicting a witch stirring a cauldron. There was magical blue steam bubbling in the cauldron and floating in whisps to form the words “Best Witches’ Brew!” “Does this look like the same place you went to with Cho Chang in Fifth Year?” Draco asked, patiently.

“No,” Harry grumbled.

“No. So do you think perhaps the inside has changed as well?”

“It’s a…possibility.”

“Please, Harry.” Draco turned to him. “You know me. I know you. Do you really think I’d purposely plan a date that you would hate?”

“Yes,” Harry answered truthfully.

Draco’s eyes widened in shock and then, noticing Harry’s grin, he had to smile as well, shaking his head. “You, prat.” He leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on Harry’s lips.

Draco felt Harry’s magic swirl around them as snow began to gently fall. “You always do that.”

“It’s romantic!” Harry retorted.

“It’s cheesy as hell is what it is.”

“You love it.”

“I’d never confess it.”

“You already have.”

“No witnesses. Can’t prove it.”

Summary: It's 8th year and let's be real.... nothing has changed. Harry is still obsessed with Draco Malfoy. ** Harry watches as Draco stands and makes a beeline for the castle. Something green catches Harry’s eye as it falls from Draco’s person, unseen by the man walking away, his feet crunching against fresh-fallen snow with each step. Harry steps out from behind a tree to investigate: a Slytherin scarf. The Eighth Years were given Hogwarts-themed uniforms, and Harry knows how hard it is for him to be attending Hogwarts not wearing his Gryffindor scarlet and gold. He should call out to Draco—but when he opens his mouth, no words escape. Instead, he picks up the scarf, allowing the fibres to caress his hands. I’ll just borrow it, Harry thinks, wrapping the scarf around his own neck. ** ~ My contribution to the January 2021 Drarry Drabble Challenge!~ Prompt: Borrowed Word Count: 117