#drarry microfic

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

Harry has shit eyesight. Now, this has been a fact of life since Harry was a kid. He couldn’t see jackshit, and he’d been living with that up until the war ended and Hermione convinced him to get magical eyesight correction done.

And holy fucking shit was the world so much clearer than he had ever imagined. Turns out the glasses he’d been using for the past seventeen years of his life were not the most accurate (shocker), and he was seeing things in a whole new light. 

Neville had way greener eyes than he’d remembered, and had Hermione always had that many curls? And since when had Ron had that many fucking freckles? 

But the main issue was Malfoy. Harry first sees him in the ministry atrium (while Harry is in Auror training and Malfoy is making his Healer rounds), and he nearly has a heart attack. Because fuck. Fucking fuck fuck.

Since when were Malfoy’s eyes that grey? They were as light as silver, but dark enough that you could mistake them for being as deep as the ocean. And his stupid fucking hair. It shone like anything, and Harry could swear it was damn near glowing. It was hard to ignore, especially now that Malfoy had grown it out to his shoulders. And Malfoy’s face was not nearly as pointy as Harry’d remembered it. It was… pretty? Attractive? He was starting to see why half their year had fancied Malfoy. 

And his physique- he looked nothing like he did when they were 16. There was almost an elegance to his lean but toned body, the form-fitted Healer robes hugging all the right places. Like he was some fucking model. Holy fucking shit, this is not happening. Harry does not find Malfoy hot like he’s some kind of schoolyard girl.

“Morning,” Malfoy mutters, walking past him while he gapes at him like a fish. Has Malfoy always been this gorgeous? No, there was simply no way. It must be an illegal spell. Or perhaps it was an imposter. Or maybe Draco Malfoy had decided to become a Veela. Yes. Yes, that would explain why Harry felt like he was losing his mind.

“Malfoy!” Harry calls out before Malfoy turns into the next hallway. Malfoy pauses, looking back at him, confusedly, as if he thought Harry was calling someone else.

“Yes?”

“You, er, look nice.”

Malfoy stares at Harry like he’s just announced that he’s going to elope with McGonagall. For a moment, Harry thinks Malfoy is going to yell at him, throw something at him, or slap him, and Harry almost runs away. But he does not, deciding that that would not be very Aurorly of him.

Malfoy blinks. “Thanks,” He mumbles, walking away. Harry is very grateful that his eyesight is good enough to see the faint flush rise in Malfoy’s cheekbones and neck. 

“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?

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.

@drarrymicrofic | wc: 330 | prompt: tremble

For three days, the Auror Office had been tearing London apart for Harry’s missing partner, and he had not slept a wink. 

Now, Harry was at Malfoy’s side, blasting through the restraints. Malfoy slumped forward, and Harry caught him before he hit the floor.

“Malfoy,” Harry said, gathering his trembling body carefully into his arms. “Malfoy, look at me.”

Malfoy’s eyes opened, unfocused and dulled.

“Potter,” he rasped.

“I’m here. Help’s coming.”

Malfoy blinked at him. “You look dreadful.”

Harry let out something that was almost a laugh. “You’ve been tortured for three days and you’re insulting my appearance?”

“Priorities,” Malfoy whispered, closing his eyes.

“Stay awake.”

“I’m trying. Don’t sound so bossy.”

Harry pressed his fingers to Malfoy’s throat. His pulse was there, fast and weak.

“Sorry,” Harry said. “I’ll ask nicely next time.”

“Liar.”

Harry’s hand shook where it held him. “Yeah.”

Malfoy stared up at him, breathing shallowly. His whole body kept jerking in little aftershocks.

“I thought about you,” Malfoy said.

Harry swallowed. “What?”

“I—.” Malfoy’s fingers twitched against Harry’s sleeve. “I imagined you, when the pain got too much.”

Malfoy’s eyes fluttered, and Harry tightened his arm around him.

“No. Stay with me.”

“Trying,” Malfoy said again, irritated even now. “Merlin, Potter.”

“Good. Be annoyed. That’s good.”

Malfoy gave the smallest broken huff. 

“The thought of you kept me alive,” he continued. “Without you, what do I live for?” 

“Malfoy.”

“I know. Terrible timing. Always had terrible timing.”

Harry stared at him. “Are you under Veritaserum?”

“Yes, but that means you have to believe me.”

Harry brushed his fingers through Malfoy’s hair, matted and bloodied. “I do.”

“I want you,” Malfoy said bluntly. “There. Bloody humiliating.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do have to. That’s rather the point of truth serum, Potter.” 

Harry’s vision blurred.

“Just believe me,” Malfoy whispered. “Please.”

The door burst open. Voices filled the room as Aurors and Healers flooded in. 

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.