#dracoharry

when I look at you, everything else fades away, my second piece for the HD Reverse Bang 2022 @harrydracobang . It inspired the most gorgeous fic, written by the brilliant @slyth-princess

Read "We Were Something (don't you think so)" (Mature, 19.5k) on AO3

It has been 10 years since Draco Malfoy stepped foot in London. In truth, he would have been happy to never be here again. But when your best friend since birth decides to get married and wants you by his side it isn't as if you can refuse. No matter who you might run into. Get in, get out, and never look back. He's sure he'll be fine.

Harry Potter has always been good about locking away feelings he couldn't deal with. As long as he didn't have to face them he could very easily pretend they never happened. So how was he going to handle seeing a man he had once thought could be his everything for the first time in a decade. Spoiler alert, it does not go the way he planned.

Featuring exs who aren't as sneaky as they think they are, men who don't know how to talk about their feelings, meddling friends who truly have the best intentions at heart, and a whole lot of thirsty Drarry in fancy clothes.

Harry & Draco: Snuggle Muffin [Skit] Christmas is closing in, and Draco and Pansy plan to use people's Christmas spirits to gain an extra present or two. 🎄

lmfao i haven’t written fic in 6 years how did this happen Title: The Art of Precious Scars 1/4 Author: briecheesie Rating: M Pairing: Draco/Harry (full list on AO3) Tags: EWE, Auror Harry Potter, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Rehabilitation, Cute Animals, Dealing With Trauma, Ghosts, Piercings, Tacky Decor, Tattoos, Widower Draco Malfoy, Single Parent Draco Malfoy, Muggle Culture, Small Amounts of Ableist Language Summary:  Eight years ago, Draco Malfoy fell off the grid. No sign of death, no proof of life. And yet, here Harry is, standing in the doorway of Pawsitive Thoughts Rehabilitation Center, wondering if he's hallucinating all of the colors in Malfoy's hair. _________________ “What do you mean, you’ve ‘lost Draco Malfoy’?”  

Harry frowns at the crumpled piece of parchment held in his hand. The address is correct; he’s sure of it, if for no other reason than the fact that it’s written in Hermione’s delicate scrawl. 

Still.

He looks skeptically at the open, picturesque valley below him. 

“We can’t find him, sir. We’ve no record of him since he completed his probation eight years ago.”

It’s early morning and the sun is low, but Harry can still make out a maze of fences, constructed out of what looks like scrap material, that intersect and go on for miles. A large greenhouse looms among them, with an unevenly painted barn even farther back. 

Sitting in the middle of it all is a cheerful yellow cottage, its turquoise door proudly displaying a cat-shaped knocker hanging just below a large, iron number 3.

3 Buttercup Lane. 

The name matches the nauseatingly storybook scene.

“How can you have no record of him? He didn’t just disappear. Did you check with Parkinson and Zabini? Any of his other friends from school?”

Sucking a breath in through his teeth, Harry begins to descend the small hill he landed on, hooking his broomstick on the holster attached to his back. It’s easy work to get to the bottom of the slope, but unease begins to fill his chest now that he only has a few hundred meters left to clear.

“Zabini and Parkinson claim they haven’t seen him in years. Legally, we don’t have any reason to force the truth from them. And he hasn’t had any other known associates since the war ended.”

As Harry approaches the house, the words “Pawsitive Thoughts Rehabilitation Center” make themselves known on a chalkboard by the door, letters drawn in a swooping, decorative cursive. He looks down at the address again.

“Why can’t we just give his inheritance to charity? If you ask me, the War Orphan Fund could use it a lot more than that bloody git.”

“Come on, Ron. If he’s still alive, he’s got a right to it.”

“Well, then let’s cross our fingers, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry mutters to himself as he tries to decide whether ringing the ladybug doorbell will make him feel more or less ridiculous than using the cat knocker.