#drarryshitpost

First year Harry: [praying] it's me again. i need someone to be my friend, someone who won't run away. maybe send me an angel, the nicest angel you have.

Harry: the lake is so beautiful

Draco:

Draco: *throws the stone harshly at the late*

{drarry-fangirl}

•Pansy and Hermione, eighth year at Hogwarts

•Pansy apologises to Harry, Ron and Hermione. At first it’s awkward, tense, but she manages to spit it out, her head bowed.

•”I was scared. I didn’t know what was going on, all I knew was that I needed it to end. We had already lost so many people. I— I’m sorry.”

•She looks up, eyes wide and afraid, but she is met with a series of warm smiles.

•Harry steps forward. “That’s alright. I understand. We were just kids, after all.”

•She smiles shyly, whispering a quiet, “Thank you,” to the three.

•The three start hanging out. Surprisingly, Pansy seems to be a huge bookworm, and can be found often reading and studying together with Hermione in the library while Ron and Harry play chess.

•They never talk about the war.

•The three of them never see Draco around. The only time where the blonde can be seen is in classes, where he keeps his head low and doesn’t speak.

•Harry notices, looking over at the Slytherin table during dinner and not seeing the familiar blonde head hunched over his plate. He starts watching the blonde, noticing how he seems to disappear after all classes. How he never seems to be eating.

•And he worries.

•He voices his worries to Hermione as she leaves for the library. She is in a hurry, a stack of books in her hands as she mutters about how late she is and how Pansy must be already waiting there and—

•So she doesn’t seem to listen to him.

•He sighs, and promises to himself that he is going to let it go.

•What he doesn’t see, as Hermione leaves, is a spark in her eyes and a small smile growing on her lips.

•She gets to the library and sits down beside Pansy. She mutters “I’m sorry”, as she sits.

•Pansy merely shrugs, her eyes soaking in the words on her paper.

•She raises her head as Hermione keeps staring at her. “What’s up?”

•Hermione looks at Pansy, takes a deep breath. “Harry is worried about Draco.”

•Pansy drops her quill, and a smirk formes on her face. “Oh, he does, doesn’t he?”

•Hermione smirks as well. “Oh, yeah.”

•“He was rambling on about how he never sees him eat and how he disappears after classes...”

•”Strange, because all I hear in the Slytherin Common Room is Porter here, Potter there.”

•Pansy’s eyes twinkle. ”I think it’s time you all met Draco Malfoy.”

•And so they plot.

•A week later, the plan is on board.

•Harry doesn’t know what’s happening. He wakes up on Monday as usual, but isn’t even halfway ready when Hermione comes to his room and pulls him out and down the stairs. “Wha—?”

•”You’re late, Harry!”

•And so he makes his way to the Great Hall, pulled ahead by Hermione. He doesn’t dare question her. She probably just wants Harry and Ron to study at breakfast.

•It’s not even been five minutes since he sat down and started eating when everyone around him goes silent.

•Breakfast is usually quiet, whispers buzzing and echoing all around the Great Hall, but this time it is dead silent.

•Harry raises his head curiously, eyes turning to the main doors where everyone is staring.

•And his jaw drops.

•His brain shuts down (Harry.exe has stopped working)

•Huh?

•Draco Malfoy stands in front of the doors, proudly staring ahead. Pansy is behind him, and shoots a look at Harry before turning to Hermione and smirking.

•But Harry isn’t looking at her.

•He’s staring at Draco’s blue hair.

•Um—

•As Draco makes his way to the Slytherin table, all eyes follow him. The whispers start, loud. The buzzing builds up when Pansy pulls Draco back, to the other side of the Great Hall.

•To the Gryffindor table.

•And Harry is screwed.

•”Hermione!” He whines.

•Because Draco looks at him, pins him down with those grey eyes.

•And his hair looks so perfect—

•The two approach the Gryffindor table quickly and sit down in front of the trio.

•Pansy looks at Draco. Glares.

•And then Draco turns to Ron. “Weasley.” He says. “I’m really sorry. For— everything. I really am. I was wrong. I wish I had realised it sooner.”

•And Ron shrugs. “It’s alright, Mate.”

•Then he turns to Hermione. “Granger.”

•”Hermione”, she says, smiling. “Please.”

•”Hermione,” he corrects himself, mirroring Hermiones smile.

•And Harry doesn’t think the blonde knows what he is doing to him right now.

•”I’m sorry, for having you called a— Mu—, um, sorry. You are honestly one of the smartest witches I know.”

•Hermione giggles. “No worries, Draco.”

•Draco sits stunned, a shy smile forming on his lips as he nods to Hermione.

•Harry gapes.

•Draco then turns to him.

•And looks at him.

•He doesn’t seem to be able to speak, his usual aristocratic composition gone, replaced by something akin to fear, shyness, embarrassment.

•But deep in his eyes something flares.

•”Potter.”

•”I’m sorry. For everything. For being a prejudiced kid, for all the trouble I have made you go through. I—“

•And he looks down, wringing his hands.

•And Harry has to intervene.

•Because—

•Well, because he can’t stand to see the blonde so distressed.

•So he reaches out, and takes Draco’s hands in his own.

•The contact sends shivers up Harry’s arms, and he shudders.

•Draco looks up, then.

•Those grey eyes seem to change colours under Harry’s gaze. The blue hair shines in the morning sunlight. Harry can’t take his eyes off of Draco.

•He doesn’t quite know why.

•”It’s alright.” He says. “I forgive you.”

•And Draco seems to deflate, and he relaxes, his eyes filling with relief.

•He smiles, “Thank you. Really.”

•And Harry looks at him. His lips, so soft and full. Draco unconsciously licks them, and Harry shudders.

•He looks at his skin, so pale and soft, delicate just like porcelain. His eyes, the grey slowly mixing with the blue, creating a beautiful stormy hue that Harry could forever get lost in.

•And that hair.

•Harry’s breath gets knocked out of his lungs as he looks at Draco, so perfect.

•He doesn’t really know what’s happening,

•He only knows of the feeling within him,

•That fluttery,

•Messy,

•Breathtaking,

•Beautiful feeling deep within him.

•Their hands are still entwined.

I’ve gone to bed, I have school the day after. I’m closing my eyes and trying not to think about anything so that I’ll fall asleep faster.