#drarry microfic

The first time Harry hears this ridiculous rumour, he finds it amusing. 

“Me and Malfoy?” He asks.

The intern nods. “Everyone thinks you’re together.”

“That’s ridiculous. People will just make up anything nowadays.”

“Y-yeah, totally.”

The second time, it's less funny because it’s from Dean, a fully trained adult Auror, not some naive teenage intern. 

“Potter, could you ask your healer boyfriend if he could send over the reports today?” 

“...my what.”

“Your boyfriend?” Dean replies, looking up from his work.

“Malfoy isn’t my boyfriend.” He replies quickly, defensively. 

Dean gives him a look. “Right. Just ask him for those reports.”

After the third, fourth, fifth, and even sixth time, Harry stops finding it funny.

"Why does everyone think I’m dating Malfoy? I mean, that’s insane. Right, guys?"

Ron and Hermione exchange the ‘are you seeing what I’m seeing?’ look that Harry has been a victim of since they were fourteen.

"What?" He asks.

“Well, Harry-” Hermione starts, clearly ready to gentle parent him into whatever realization he was missing, until Ron interrupts.

“Maybe you should ask Malfoy, mate.”

Harry is not asking Malfoy. He’ll just ask everyone else. He’s an Auror, after all; investigations like this are his thing. Obviously, this rumour is coming from somewhere. He’ll just ask around until he finds out where. 

He goes up to the Mungos’ receptionist, bracing himself. He inhales, then asks, “Could you tell me where my boyfriend is?”

She doesn’t even look up. “He’s on spell damage today, fourth floor.”

“Malfoy’s not my boyfriend.”

She looks up. “Alright.” She looks extremely unconvinced. 

“I’m being serious. We’re not dating.”

“Really?” 

“Yes.”

"Oh." 

Harry does not like how shocked she looks. He shakes his head. She probably sees lots of people and gets confused; he doubts it means anything.

That is, until everybody’s answer is like that. 

“Isn’t he your partner for every gala?”

“He leaves any case he’s on if you’re injured.”

“You literally threatened the Minister because he accidentally insulted Malfoy.”

“You bring him coffee every morning?”

“You guys go to the same place for lunch every day. Even the Prophet’s bored of it.”

Harry is beginning to suspect he may not survive this investigation with the insane things people are saying. I mean, it’s all true, but clearly taken out of context.

"Malfoy."

Draco doesn’t look up from his paperwork. "Potter."

"Everyone thinks we're dating." 

“I’m afraid they do.” He replies dryly.

“Uh, do you not care?” Harry asks.

Draco looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Harry pauses, realizing he actually doesn’t mind the idea. He was just worried Draco would take offense to such an egregious misunderstanding.

“No.”

“Then there isn’t really an issue, is there?”

“Suppose not.”

“Well, I have work to do. I’ll talk to you later tonight.”

“Er- alright then.” As Harry reaches for the door, Draco speaks again.

"Harry."

Harry turns. "Yeah?"

“Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps everyone else might be right?” Draco asks, suddenly looking at him expectantly.

 “I, er, guess so,” Harry replies, faltering under his sharp stare. Draco looks satisfied with this answer, even though Harry has never felt more confused in his life.

Malfoy acts like everything is normal later that day, but Harry can't stop thinking about it.

‘Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps everyone else isn't misunderstanding the situation?’ What bloody situation? He tries to pay more attention to things.

The next morning, when Harry drops off Draco's coffee, nobody looks surprised, as per usual. One Healer actually says, "Morning, you two."

Draco replies, "Morning." Like, this is normal. Like that is a normal thing to say. Harry doesn't even work here!

During a meeting, Draco throws a hissy fit because Harry’s robes aren’t on right, and he adjusts his collar. Nobody reacts. Draco falls asleep on his shoulder during one of their breaks. Nobody reacts.

Later that day, he gets an invite to a Gala addressed to the both of them. Like they’re a unit. 

“This is insane! To Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy. What the hell are they thinking?”

Ron doesn’t even look up from his paper. “Yeah, Mate, that’s so crazy.” He says, half listening. 

He looks around to see if anyone else saw this insanity, but no one has reacted. Wait. Harry thinks about the stupid coffee. The lunches. The galas. The fact that they almost live together with how often Malfoy’s at Grimmauld.

Oh.

Shit.

take 2

1.1.2005

Malfoy,

Robards tells me you’re joining the Auror Office.

France got boring?

Wanted to reach out before you start. Maybe we could find some time to clear the air? Grab a drink?

H.

4.1.2005

H,

Really? Just H? Am I not worthy of the additional four letters that spell out your name?

I would rather shove the Sword of Gryffindor up my arse than get a drink with you.

Draco Lucius Malfoy

10.1.2005

Malfoy,

I’m happy to ask Neville if he’d be prepared to loan the sword, if you’re keen.

Hope your first day went well.

Harry James Potter.

22.3.2005

Potter,

I suppose thanks are in order. I heard you stuck up for me with Watson. You didn’t need to.

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

24.3.2005

Malfoy,

Watson’s a dick. Don’t let him get to you.

Well done on the Troll case.

We’re going to the pub on Friday. You in?

Harry James Potter.

24.3.2005

Potter,

No.

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

12.4.2005

Potter,

Societal expectations dictate that when a colleague is going through a difficult time, one must offer a sympathetic word.

Bad luck on the redhead. At least you’re now free to seed your field—or whatever agricultural metaphor Muggles favour.

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

15.4.2005

Malfoy,

It’s sow your wild oats.

Not that it matters. Ginny and I weren’t together. It was a cover. We’re both gay as fuck and didn’t want it impacting our careers. We thought it would.

Thanks for reaching out.

It’s Robards’ birthday Sunday, so we’re heading to the pub tonight. Open invite.

Harry James Potter.

16.4.2005

Malfoy,

You missed out on a good night.

Harry James Potter.

17.4.2005

Malfoy,

Or are you just homophobic?

Harry James Potter.

19.4.2005

Potter,

Clearly, you are a defective gay if you’ve failed to recognise I’m about as queer as the sun is yellow.

I’ve simply opted to ignore your persistent requests for drinks.

Now, can you please send over the report for the Niffler case? I put the request in two days ago, and you’re starting to piss me off.

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

29.8.2005

Malfoy,

Sorry to hear about your father.

Hope you’re doing alright.

Harry James Potter.

29.8.2005

Potter,

You’re not sorry. Neither am I.

Enclosed: a sickle. Have a drink on me. Because I fucking am.

D.

04.11.2005

Potter,

Been on field duty for three weeks and come back to find out you’ve acquired a fully-fledged boyfriend?

Have to ask if you’re okay.

Smith.

Really?

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

04.11.2005

Malfoy,

I went on one fucking date because he wouldn’t stop asking. Now he’s picking out wedding linens.

What are wedding linens?

Harry James Potter.

04.11.2005

Potter,

Sorry, but this is hilarious.

I’m actually crying. Robards sent me home. I’ve claimed exhaustion due to emotional instability.

You’re such a twat.

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

23.12.2005

Potter,

Did you really send my mother a Christmas card?

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

P.S. Where’s mine?

24.12.2005

Malfoy,

I only send cards to people who either

a) Saved my life or

b) Have a drink with me at the pub.

No, you can’t use the Manor lie because I saved you from Fiendfyre. We’re even.

Harry James Potter

29.12.2005

Malfoy,

Enjoy the bastard card enclosed. Your stupid puppy-dog eyes at work were sickening.

I expect a drink.

We’re going out on NYE. A bunch of us from work. I’m not taking no for an answer.

Harry James Potter.

31.12.2005

Potter,

Suck my dick.

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

31.12.2005

Totaly wolud if u gave me a chanc.

Hapy New Yr.

HJPotter <3

01.01.2006

Malfoy,

Something tells me I embarrassed myself on NYE?

My owl came back this morning, and the last letter I received was from you. Did I write you something?

Harry James Potter.

02.01.2006

Potter,

Pure blackmail material.

How about I show you on Friday?

One-time offer.

Leaky Cauldron—8 pm.

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

14.05.2006

Draco,

Sorry, I had to dip early this morning. You look beautiful when you’re sleeping. Might be the lack of talking.

See you tonight.

Harry James Potter

X

09.09.2006

Harry,

I’ve thought about it. I’ll move in.

I didn’t mean to react so negatively. But come on—I was balls deep when you asked.

I’ll pop over tomorrow, and we can discuss the details.

Draco Lucius Malfoy

XXX

19.11.2006

Draco,

You said I was moving quickly when I asked you to move in—and then you go and propose?

What a way to make a bloke feel special. Running off before I can answer.

Get home and do it properly. I’m not answering until you’re on one knee.

Yours,

The future Harry James Potter-Malfoy

XXX

24.12.2012

Love,

Don’t forget the milk.

Scorpius is adamant that we leave a full pint out for Santa. He says you promised him.

Such a bizarre Muggle tradition you’ve brought into our house.

Draco Lucius Potter-Malfoy

“I’d fuck Potter, marry Potter, then fuck him again before we inevitably kill each other.”

Harry gasped.

He’d snuck into the Slytherin common room, expecting schemes, not Malfoy’s voice echoing through a circle of eighth-years playing some party game. He absolutely wasn’t prepared for such filthy yet intriguing words tonight.

*

“Fuck, marry, kill: Potter, Weasley, Longbottom.”

Draco smirked, satisfied, when a small gasp sounded behind him at his answer. He could practically feel Potter hovering under his cloak.

“Of course you’d say that,” Pansy teased, “you’ve been in love with him for eight years.”

Another gasp. Draco's smirk dropped instantly.

@drarrymicrofic | prompt: tremble | wc: 250

“I always get it wrong,” Harry mumbled, sounding confused. Worried. “I think I’ve got it wrong.”

Draco’s heart was hammering in his throat as his fingers tried to remember the movements, as he hummed the healing charm as best he could. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You did everything perfect. You’re always so bloody perfect, so shut up and stay alive.”

“I don’t know. Is it right this time?” He was fading. Draco bit his lip as he paused the charm. The blood flowed. He cursed.

“Stay with me. Stay with me, help’s on the way,” Draco whispered. He started humming again. 

Harry’s shaking fingers met his. He was almost as pale as Draco.

“It’s ironic, right? You always tell me it’s a coincidence. But … this is ironic. I think.”

Draco gasped out a strange sound, something between gag, laugh, and sob. “Yes, this is ironic.”

“Because I’m going to die saving you from the curse I almost killed you with.”

“Almost die. Almost, you hear me? You won’t—”

“‘Snot a coincidence,” Harry mumbled. “It’s ironic.”

Draco heard a crack and felt a swarm of healers surround them. He pulled Harry’s face close.

“You want irony?” Draco asked, feeling hands pulling him away. “Irony would be you saving my life the day I was planning to tell you how I felt, and then dying before I got the chance.”

“You hate irony,” Harry slurred as the sleeping charm hit.

“And I love you,” Draco whispered, finally letting the tears fall.

Shall I do another 250 for resolution to heal my own heart?

@drarrymicrofic | wc: 456 | prompt: butt

The first time Harry tried to ask Draco Malfoy out, he got as far as, “So, Malfoy, are you—”

Then Ron appeared, dropped three case files on Harry’s desk, and said, “Good, you’re both here. Please tell me one of you knows where I can find a cursed ferret, I’ve been doing the rounds.”

Draco looked at the files. Harry looked at Ron.

“Not now,” Harry said.

Ron dropped into a chair. “It’s either now or I set fire to the paperwork.”

The second time, Harry cornered Draco in the Ministry lift.

“Malfoy,” he said, shifting his grip on his briefcase, “I was wondering if you’d like to—”

The lift doors opened and Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped in.

Harry immediately changed course and said, “—review the… broom-related… tax fraud?”

Draco stared at him. “Potter, that was six months ago.”

Kingsley looked between them, then very wisely chose shuffling through the paperwork in his hand over whatever this was. 

The third time, Draco was alone outside after work, collar turned up against the cold, smoke from his cigarette curling silver around his fingers.

“Malfoy,” Harry said, walking up, before he could lose his nerve.

Draco looked over. “Potter.”

“I was thinking we—”

“There you are,” Pansy said from behind him, pulling her gloves on. She looked between them and smirked. “Am I interrupting something?”

Draco’s mouth curved. “Only Potter’s latest attempt at a sentence, apparently.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Good night.”

Pansy waved and looped her arm through Draco’s, tugging him away, already complaining about the cold.

Harry watched them go and made a private note to find a way to rid of the entire concept of timing.

A few weeks into this, Hermione had apparently had enough.

They were all crammed into a corner booth at the Leaky, warm with laughter and too many rounds, when Harry glanced at Draco across the table.

“Malfoy, I—well. I was wondering if—”

Everyone else’s conversation died all at once, and their eyes were on him. Harry’s mouth stayed open, uselessly shaped around words that had apparently decided to abandon him.

Across the table, Draco only raised a perfect blond eyebrow, which did not help.

Hermione did not even look up from her drink. “Draco, Harry wants to know if you’ll go out with him,” she butted in. 

Ron and Blaise said, in unison, “Oh, finally.”

Harry turned his head slowly towards Hermione. “Hey, I had that!”

“Did you though?”

Harry was about to retort when Draco’s knee brushed his beneath the table. When Harry looked back at him, Draco was smiling.

“Well, Potter?”

Harry swallowed. “Dinner?”

Draco’s smile softened. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Ron stared at his pint, pretending very hard to focus on the amber liquid and not eavesdrop on Draco and Harry's conversation at the other end of the bar.

"You're in my space, Potter," Draco said, but there was no heat in it. His hand rested on Harry's bicep, fingers curled around the muscle there.

"Am I?" Harry asked, leaning closer. He'd grown broader after Hogwarts, taller too, filled out properly with Auror training. Right now he was using all that extra height to crowd into Malfoy's space. "Didn't notice."

"You're a big, fat liar."

"Prove it."

Ron took a long drink. The Leaky Cauldron was busy tonight, full of witches and wizards unwinding after work. No one else seemed bothered by the fact that Harry Potter, Head Auror, had apparently lost his mind.

"I don't need to prove anything to you," Draco said. His thumb traced a small circle on Harry's arm.

"You like touching me now."

"I'm simply admiring the results of your training regimen. Professional interest."

"Professional interest."

"I work with runes, Potter. I appreciate well-constructed things."

Harry laughed, and Ron wanted to hex him. This was the same bloke who'd taken down three dark wizards last week with perfect strategy and timing. The same bloke who could coordinate an entire team of Aurors through complex raids without breaking a sweat.

Put him near Malfoy and he turned into a lovesick fool.

"How's the Ministry contract going?" Harry asked.

"Tedious. Your department keeps requesting modifications."

"Maybe I'm requesting them."

"Are you?"

"Maybe I just like having excuses to see you."

Ron gripped his glass harder. Hermione had warned him before she'd left for the night. She'd actually warned him that Harry and Malfoy would probably end up like this, but he hadn't listened.

"That's pathetic, Potter."

"You're still here."

"The drinks are good."

"The drinks are terrible. You told me that fifteen minutes ago."

Draco's lips twitched. "Did I?"

"You did. Right before you put your hand on my arm and haven't moved it since."

"I hate you," Draco said.

"No, you don't."

"I really, really do."

"Say it again. More convincingly this time."

Ron looked over despite himself. Harry had shifted even closer, his hand now resting on the bar beside Draco's, their fingers almost touching. Draco had tipped his head back to maintain eye contact, his hair catching the firelight. He looked like he wanted to be exactly where he was.

They both did.

"This is stupid," Draco murmured.

"No, you're stupid."

"Brilliant comeback. Did that take you all day to come up with?"

Harry grinned, absolutely besotted, and Ron wanted to leave. He should leave. He should have left ten minutes ago.

"I should go," Draco said, but he didn't move. "Early meeting tomorrow."

"Skip it."

"Some of us have professional obligations, Potter."

"Your contract isn't due for another week. I know because I'm the one who approved the timeline."

"Abuse of power."

"Definitely."

Blaise appeared at Ron's elbow, signaling Tom for a drink. He glanced toward Harry and Draco, then snorted.

"Finally," Blaise said. "Merlin, I thought they'd never get their act together."

Ron turned to stare at him. "You think this is good?"

"Weasley, I've been listening to Draco talk about Potter since first year. This is mercy." Blaise accepted his firewhisky from Tom. "And you can't tell me Potter was any better."

Ron slumped on his stool. "He wasn't."

"There you go then. It's time these two actually did something about it instead of making the rest of us suffer."

"I'm suffering right now."

"You're eavesdropping. That's your fault."

"They're doing this out in the open. I can't not hear them."

Blaise raised his glass toward Harry and Draco. "To them finally getting together. May they take it somewhere private soon so we can all have some peace."

Ron clinked his glass against Blaise's because what else could he do? His best friend was absolutely gone on Draco Malfoy, standing there with his hand creeping closer to Draco's on the bar, smiling like nothing else in the world mattered.

And Malfoy, the git, looked exactly the same way.

a drarry microfic

“Hey, Malfoy?” Harry hummed, glancing up from his pile of work.

“What, Potter?”

“Have you ever heard the term ‘Drarry’?”

Draco bolted up in his seat, nearly knocking over his mug of coffee.

“W-what?” he croaked, dabbing at the fresh coffee stains on his latest expense report. Who taught him that?! “No, why? What does it mean?”

“Apparently it’s our ‘ship’ name. Draco and Harry. Drarry.”

“Ship? Like a boat? Did someone name a boat after us?” Draco asked, feigning innocence, hoping his blush wasn’t noticeable.

“That’s what I said too, but Teddy says it’s some sort of new slang. All the kids at Hogwarts are obsessed with this whole ‘shipping’ thing apparently.”

Harry furrowed his brow in thought. Draco wanted to crawl in a hole.

“Anyways, I guess it’s, like, short for ‘relationship’, like they take two people they think should be together and they ‘ship’ them.”

Draco blanched.

This isn’t happening.

“Kinda funny,” Harry laughed easily, as if he wasn’t speaking into existence Draco’s literal waking nightmare. “Teds says we are the most popular ship!”

“Is that so?” Draco responded blankly, his mouth dry.

“Yeah! And—”

Oh god, there’s more?!

“—there’s this thing called ‘fan fiction’ where—”

The rest of Harry’s explanation was drowned out by the high pitch ringing that filled Draco’s ears.

I prayed every night this day would never come. And yet.

“So anyways, apparently there’s this one really popular Drarry writer whose work has been making its rounds across Hogwarts—”

No. No, no, no. That’s it. God hates me. It’s the only explanation.

“Someone must’ve gotten it off their older sibling cuz Teddy says it can get a bit saucy at times, but he insisted it was really tastefully done.”

Draco gawked at him, and for the first time Harry began to blush.

“I-I mean, it’s so awkward, right?” he laughed nervously. “but I mean, I gotta admit, I’m a bit curious. Like in a morbid sort of way, y’know? Like, I just want to see what all the hype is about.”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, looking at Draco thoughtfully before continuing.

“So you wanna read it with me?” he asked, reaching into his bag and pulling out a bound stack of paper.

Draco gaped at the booklet laid out in front of him with a title he knew all too well.

“Just the first few pages, I mean,” Harry shrugged awkwardly. “Just to see if it’s any good or whatever. Figured you’d be a good judge since you write in your free time, right?”

Draco’s eyes flickered rapidly between the pages and the curious green eyes staring back at him.

Harry clenched his fists, doing his absolute best to keep it bloody together.

But the emotions kept coming, wave after wave: fear, joy, anger, and gratitude, all of it crashing through him until his magic shivered under his skin. He loved the little boy napping in Draco’s arms so much it terrified him. And oh, how he loved Draco, too.

“Darling,” Draco whispered, not looking up as he stroked one careful finger over their baby son’s chubby cheek, “the china is trembling.”

“Sorry.” Harry winced, dragging in a slow breath as the teacups rattled softly on the table. He forced his hands to unclench. “I’m trying.”

Draco’s gaze lifted to him, soft but far too knowing. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing to worry about.”

“Ah,” Draco said, with the faintest curve of a smile. “Then you can tell me.”

Harry huffed a miserable laugh. Draco looked down again as Scorpius made a small, gurgly sound in his sleep, then settled deeper against him, warm and trusting and impossibly tiny.

“It’s just…” Harry started, then stopped when the china gave another delicate tremble. He swallowed hard and steadied himself. “If anyone ever dares write a prophecy about him, I don’t know what I’ll do to them.”

Draco’s expression sharpened.

Harry shook his head, helplessly. “He’s just—look at him. All he worries about is being held and warm and fed. No baby who can’t even walk yet should ever have to carry the burden of a prophecy.”

For a moment, Draco said nothing. Then he shifted slightly and nodded towards the free space on the small sofa. “Come sit with us.”

Harry tucked himself into the space beside him and let his head drop against his husband’s shoulder. The china finally went still.

“We’ll keep him safe, you and I,” Draco whispered, his lips brushing Harry’s hair in a kiss.

Scorpius, oblivious, smacked his lips once and slept on.