Jul 29
*Eighth year at Hogwarts be like*
Draco: So, Potter, to a year of not hexing one another's arses off?
Harry: Sure, Malfoy. I wouldn't want to deprive you of your best asset
Draco: What
Harry, sweating nervously: What
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*Eighth year at Hogwarts be like*
Draco: So, Potter, to a year of not hexing one another's arses off?
Harry: Sure, Malfoy. I wouldn't want to deprive you of your best asset
Draco: What
Harry, sweating nervously: What
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Talk To Me In French by Fluffy_Underneath [E, 64k]
Malfoy's quiet as he takes a drag of his cigarette. “I didn't shag you,” he says, finally. “Because you were blind drunk.”
Harry huffs. “I wasn't blind drunk.” Malfoy raises his eyebrows. “I mean, I was a bit drunk. But I knew what I was doing.” There's a pull in his groin as he recalls the feel of Malfoy up against him. “It’d still have been alright, I reckon.”
More than alright, Harry's stirring cock corrects.
Malfoy hums and looks away from Harry, taking another pull on his cigarette.
Harry watches him exhale slowly from the corner of his mouth, the smoke drifting softly into the air as he turns back to Harry, his gaze sharp and his voice low. “Maybe. But I don't want alright.”
Harry's heart thumps an irregular beat, but he doesn't look away as Malfoy continues. “If you're ever in my bed, Potter, it's not going to be alright. It's going to be fucking spectacular.”
His words send instant heat sizzling up Harry's spine, blood flowing irretrievably south.
Harry forces himself to hold Malfoy’s gaze as he swallows, mouth suddenly bone dry. He clears his throat and tries to find his voice. “You, uh, seem pretty confident about that.”
Malfoy’s eyes travel over Harry's body and back to his face. Harry's skin prickles at the boldness of it.
Malfoy shrugs, the hint of a smirk on his face.
“I am.”
He drops his cigarette and vanishes it. Harry watches him walk away, his heart still beating too hard, brain still stuck somewhere around spectacular.
harry: I love you
harry: I said I love you
draco: you fucking better
harry: bitch
The hushed, almost awed, silence that falls on the room. The thrum of powerful magic seeping into Draco’s every pore. The familiar prickle in his neck that feels as real as a touch. Draco doesn’t bother turning around, just levels a look at Pansy and says, “No”, in a firm voice. He knows that glint in her eyes. The road to hell is paved with Pansy Parkinson’s bad ideas. “Yes, Draco,” she insists.
- My favorite liar by poppyhills
Keeping Up with the Malfoys S2 E7
Harry: *jumps out the window*
Harry: *lands on his ass*
Harry: *runs away*
At Malfoy Manor
Harry: *bursts into Draco's bedroom*
Draco: *kissing a picture of Harry*
Draco: *looks at him and hides the picture* "God, what are you doing here, Pottah?!"
Harry: "I've got to tell you something..."
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*Harry is crying after a breakup*
Draco: There there, Potter.
Harry: *still crying* Thanks, but how did you get into my dorm?
Draco: Great question—
Edit: I do not support the words or actions of JKR and am no longer in the fandom or interact with it in anyway
i hereby refuse draco to be described as anything else ever
if it takes all night by @tackytigerfic
Harry wanted to tell Draco that of course it was nothing. It was nothing compared to how heavily Harry felt for Draco. How everything bad that had happened always flinched when confronted with how much love Harry had inside of him for the man in front of him. How it was hard, because of course it was, but it was harder to see Draco suffering, and no amount of lost sleep and heartache was going to change that. How compared to the countless I love yous Harry didn’t say, of course it felt like nothing. - Telling the Bees by Cibee (westerncibee)