#hadncchoice

❝   we   looked  at  each  other  a  little  too  long  to  just  be  friends.   ❞

💛  for  a  moodboard  about  our  muses’  relationship

The last time Harry saw Draco Malfoy was for his trials, then after that it's as if the blond disappeared from the magical world. There use to be a time where Harry would scour the news for Malfoy's face and read the articles. Taking most, if not all, with a grain of salt. He felt pity for his old rival, in some ways they had been one and the same, just on different sides of the war. It had taken him a few therapy sessions and some long thinking to get to that conclusion though. After that life had seemed to sweep him away, he saw less and less of Malfoy on the news until he didn't see anything at all. Life for Harry after had been- normal, hectic but normal. (as normal as child solider could ever feel) He went back to school due to Hermione's nagging but once he graduated he felt lost. Everyone was telling him what they wanted him to be and he didn't want to do any of it. He didn't know what he wanted to do, but he knew he was tired of being their poster boy.

Was it surprising to any of them when he would disappear for days on end? He'd rather wander the streets of London then to stay in the wizarding world where he was bombarded by letters, fans, and the like. They treated him like a god, a being that could do no wrong when he knew well enough he had done so much wrong. That was why, in that moment when he heard that voice, a voice he hadn't heard in three years, he moved towards, it curiosity burning his insides. He sounded tired, yet fond, a tone of voice he couldn't remember Malfoy ever using.

his  palms  press  flat  against  her  cold  +  clammy  skin,     holding  her  too-small  body  close  to  his.    of  all  the  places  she’s  been  in  this  world,    this  is,  unquestionably,  her  favorite.    here,  she  is  home.   here,  she  is  safe  from  the  disease  ravaging  her  body    ---  if  only  for  a  little  while. 

the  softest  melody  surrounds  them,    enveloping  their  swaying  bodies  in  the  sweetest  embrace.    the  tune  is  familiar:    the  first  song  they  ever  danced  to,   back  when  they  were  just  kids  falling  in  love.   before  scorpius,  before  the  revelation  of  that  cruel  curse,   before  she  even  realized  how  captivated  she  would  be  by  this  beautiful  man  with  eyes  that  manage  to  peer  deep  into  her  soul. 

a  trembling  hand  settles  at  the  back  of  his  head    ( she’s always trembling now,  yet another sign her body has betrayed her ),    and  she  whispers  the  lyrics  against  the  shell  of  his  ear,    voice  raspy  and  too  low.    the  end  is  near  now,   and  deep  down,   they  both  know  it.    his  shirt  hangs  loosely  from  her  frame;    skin  hallowed-out  and  pale.    she  hasn’t  left  their  room  in  months,   and  she  sleeps  more  often  than  not.   even  now,   it’s  his  arms  holding  her  up;   his  arms  giving  her  strength.     all  signs  that,    yes,    this  disease  will  soon  take  her  from  the  two  men  she  loves. 

the  curse  has  stolen  so  much  from  her    ----  moments  of  her  son’s  childhood;   a  lifetime  of  love  at  draco’s  side  ----    but  she  won’t,   can’t,   let  it  steal  this  moment  with  him:     swaying  slowly,   so  slowly,    in  the  room  they  call  their  own. 

his  lips  brush  against  the  curve  of  her  neck,    feather-light  and  so  sweet.   just  like  the  first  night  they  danced.    she  breathes  a  shaky  sigh,   eyes  squeezing  closed  against  the  tears  welling  within  her.    merlin,  she  loves  this  man.   merlin,  she’d  give  up  the  whole  damn  world  if  it  meant  staying  just  a  little  longer  with  him. 

❛       i  love  you,  draco.          ❜       whispered  softly  against  his  ear,    the  words  he  deserves  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  life  hearing.    her  heart  breaks  under  the  weight  of  her  own  grief,   and  for  the  grief  of  their  young  son.   but  most  of  all,  it  breaks  for  him.    

head  dips  a  little  lower  to  press  chapped  lips  against  his  jaw,    as  if  hoping  to  sear  her  touch  into  every  inch  of  his  beautiful,  beautiful  skin.      ❛       when  i’m  gone,    i  want  you  to  look  at  our  son  and  see  the  pieces  of  me  in  him.     I  want  you  to  look  at  him  and  know  that  i  loved  you  with  everything  i  had.        ❜   

       how do you sleep at the end of the day        when you close your eyes        all you see is his face                                                                                                   ( porches — rangerover )

Draco: [ scoff ] What doesn't make you hot?

                  “I can’t believe it,” Neville breathed, hands grasping the front gate of the Malfoy manor as he peered through the bars at all the beautiful, bright flora that now covered the once-barren and dark grounds of the house. “This— This can’t be real.”

         He’d heard rumors that Draco Malfoy had taken up an interest in plants and healing magic and that he’d finally gave the Malfoy Manor “the damned makeover that eyesore needed” as one of his customers had thoughtfully put it, but he hadn’t believed it.  Not until he saw it, anyway. Like a kid in a candy store, Neville’s bright eyes widened the size of moons as he took in the scenery.  Much to his delight, there was a patch of cobra lilies growing nearby.  One was in need of pruning and it flicked its tongue at Neville as if to say, aren’t you going to fix this?

          It was enough to put the apothecarist into motion.  He wedged his arm through the bars of the gate, finger tips just barely grasping the shriveling leave attached to the lily.  With a slight pinch, the leaf is removed. The cobra lily looks pleased.  Neville smiles in return and begins to pull his arm free— Only he can’t. Alas, he’s gotten his arm stuck between the narrow bars.  

          And to make matters worse, footsteps approached.

there’s no denying now that winter is nearly here, with the air crisp and chilled and biting at her cheeks. echo takes a deep inhale of it, letting the cold open her lungs while her boots crunch the dried leaves and frozen puddles along the path to hogsmeade. it’s nice to be away from the castle for a few hours. it’s even nicer that the group in front of them is easily forty paces away and laughing, lost in their own enjoyment of the day while she walks alongside draco, alone.