#harrypotterdrarry

pleasant visit

after hogwarts they lost sight, both have enjoyed the beautiful night together, but both also think it just isn’t meant to be. harry works at hogwarts as professor in dark arts and draco becomes a journalist, after his hard work in a small book shop in London. he wants to have a normal life, a life without magic where he can be judged by his cover, or recognized for “the-son-of-a-death eater”. nobody knows he really hadn’t had a choice in his quest for The Dark Lord, better away then. but after a while the past always catches up, as it always does. his face wasn’t unknown by the daily paper, and even though he tried his best, the gossip spread like the flu. and before he could try to undue the damage, he got a particular job. to go to hogwarts and gain information about the progress of wizards for the government. because he worked unpredictable hard and it could be his job on the line, he accepted to return to his youth. the youth that spit him out. the youth that he wouldn’t want to remember. the youth that connected him to Harry, the one man he dared to touch.

the trip with the Hogwarts Express presued smoothly. he chatted a little with the train operator, wrote some things down, but he couldn’t push away the shaking in his hands and the compulsion to glance at the door every minute to check for any students who might recognize him, but it stayed quiet. also, the heavy air of the machine made him think of his own trips here. the secret glancing at the blessed man, only a boy, then. the childish bullying, and turning around afterwards to spot him already looking. it wasn’t hunger between them, it never was. pure, it was, but they both didn’t dare to tag it. yes, some people might’ve called it love, but it never left their lips. frightened. frightened of what his family might think, what his mates would think, what he would think.

the Hogwarts Express arrived at the exact time, as always, and the children tall and short cheered out, ready for this school year. Draco never did such thing, he was spelled. spelled in the doomed world of Lord Voldemort, either called Tom Riddle. Voldemort always had a hand around his wrist, always pulling him in the dark, to later spit out, leaving him for nothing more than dust. luckily for Draco, a certain spark kept him away from the dark pit Voldemort called his heart. he used to believe the spark was himself, his better half, but it never really was. only Harry could’ve been that spark, and he prayed for so long for it to come back.

where the celebrated students go right, Draco turns otherwise, as he knows the way so well. the castle fooled him when he was younger, a student himself, with its changing stairs and misleading riddles, but not now. as the stairs change he gets reminded by the fact that the stairs represented his life, as it took many turns. harry wasn’t the first turn, not by far, but it made question every day since he felt his heart glow as the young Potter walked by. he never considered himself gay, but heterosexual wasn’t an option either. yes, he was gay, as hard as that felt on his chest. in 2018 it’s supposed to feel normal, feel good to be who you are, but Draco had been hiding for too long to unfold his true self. oh god, how bad he wanted to join those happy, living people dancing down the street with their rainbow flags and all kinds of statements, but he couldn’t let himself. it would feel like a sin.

the eagle connected to, if he was correct, Mrs McGonagall’s office opened up and he stepped into the still unsettled place. it’s been seven years since Dumbledore died, on his hands mostly, and the room was still full of closed boxes and unopened memories. the fenix still sat on his stick and the books still opened. like he left it a minute ago. Draco’s palm opened and closed roughly, twitching with sweat. his black suit creeped up and he loosened his tie, she wouldn’t mind.

she look formidable herself, not green this time, scarlet red with black accents. her wrinkles had deepened, grove into her skin and her veins stood up like straws, but her posture was the same. hands folded on her belly, pointy hat on her head and a serious look, even though she could do nothing better than smirk a bit at his sight. he pressed down the urge to hug her, “long time, no see”, and walked up to her and shove her his hand. she grabbed it gracefully, without breaking the gaze, and her lips pressed into a smile.

‘Draco, you look pleasant.” she told and she nodded at his closed fists. he immediately unfolded and smiled awkwardly.

‘it’s a surprise to be back.’ his answer was and she wrapped her second hand around his.

‘it’s a pleasure to have you back here, we’ve missed you.’

Draco smirked at the thought, nobody had missed him. he burdened all the teachers and caused trouble at school with his upened chin. he’s glad that attitude flew away when he became vulnerable, soft. obviously, the humans here did not know of any of this change. at the time he didn’t see it as a positive turn, turning soft was not what his dad has taught him, in difference, he hardened him every day.

‘what’s that?’ his old professor spotted and she raised her almost invisible eyebrows.

‘not to doubt you, but i’m not sure if anybody missed me here.’ Draco blushed, trying to sound as comfortable as he could.

‘he did.’

Draco first tried to confess himself “he” was not he, THE he, just a “he”. nobody special, maybe a professor or an old friend, reminding himself he didn’t have any long lasting friends here. or anywhere in that matter. but he didn’t work here, Potter probably did some highly interesting work. Draco doubted that Harry would go back to this place, ever, not after everything he went through. he had told Draco all about it, after Voldemort had been killed, in the library at night. they’d spread their thoughts and demons in the air and dug through them together. it could’ve lasted millennia for Draco’s matter, but his real friends Hermoine Granger and Ron Weasley had other plans.

‘i’m sorry, who’s he?’ Draco asked, perplex. McGonagall could only create a smile and tuck her grey, thin hair behind her ear.

‘Mr Potter’s in the great hall right now, you should go interview him, mr Malfoy.’

oh, many times Draco had wished to hear something from Harry, an owl or a call, it didn’t matter, just something. how many time Draco had looked back, how many times Draco “by accident” took a train to London, hoping to run into him. how many times Draco laid on his bedroom floor, wondering what would happen if Harry was here. how many times Draco had hungried to hold him. some moments he got sick in his stomach from such thoughts and hopes, other he prayed for them to come true with all his heart. and now, it came true. it has been seven years till they last saw each other and they never had a glance of one another after that, until now. he had to go. he had to.

‘go, Draco. go.’ McGonagall pushed and as rude as it must’ve been, he turned around and ran out of the room of a ghost.

the whole castle eyed silent, not a feather would go unheard. the only sound to drop, besides Draco’s rudely fast steps, tipped over the stairs, muted by hair. the known cat of this castle should be dead by now, so probably a animal of a student lost in the mazes. before Draco could take a deep breath and onverthink the situation, what to say, what to think, what to do, he opened the door to the great hall and with that about two-thousand eyes. two-thousand and one. even though he must’ve been fifty meters away, his eyes were impossible to miss. beautiful green, like a serpent. his hair still brown locks, lashing in the light of candles. he was taller, not much, maybe one inch taller than Draco now. he wore the same blouse as seven years ago, or Draco just imagined him that way. slowly, but certain, Draco nervoulsy walked through the hall of children, all’s eyes burning on him. He heard Harry catch his breath sharply, almost cutting. 

oh, please, tell me you thought about me too, tell me you didn’t forget about me, about what we had, Draco thought, as Harry shifts in his seat to stand up. Draco is risking it all, no doubt people recognize him, no doubt people judge him, no doubt the news papers will tell a twisted story. and still, here he is. 

like calming a wild animal, Harry stood up, still gazing at his old “friend”. Next to him Hagrid jumps in the air too, messy, grey beard holding its way. Draco feared he’d tell Hagrid to take him away, to never see again, but instead Harry walked around the long table with rich and tasty food, past the sorting hat, who looked at him coldly and stepped of the standard. There they were, eye to eye, like two ghosts. two man with a broken past and an unsure future, now more than ever. Harry must decide what he’d do now, Draco locked in his position. the air in the room muted most noise, accept some gossiping, obviously about their past. as much as they tried, some things can’t be hidden, not completely. as far as Draco knows, Harry hadn’t been active in his gay-ism as well, but how would he know? maybe the whole school knows and Draco imagined the very tension, or it was a secret he kept hidden at more costs. Harry mouth opened mechanic and a second before he spoke,  he puffed out a short breath. 

‘Draco.’ he breathed, echoeing through the room. his voice trembled a little, but it was the same voice Draco mused about many times. ‘What- what are you doing here?’

even though this wasn’t exactly how Draco pictured it, he took a deep internal breath and replied, almost self-assured:

‘Can i talk to you in private, please?’ 

Harry eyes widened by the invitation, but not fear or anger, pure suprise. he hesitated with his words, then swallowed them and glued his eyes on Draco. for a long moment, all Draco wanted to do was turn around and forget this ever happened. interview a few professors, make sure to avoid the green eyes, go back with information and go on with his life, his hidden, painful, normal life. yes, nothing was to lose here. Draco was about to embarass his ass when Harry jumped in. 

‘Follow me, please.’ 

the invitation back sounded formal, like he didn’t recognize Draco or he planned to set the tone, to keep it on professional level. Draco realised he hadn’t thought over what he’d do when Harry didn’t feel the same anymore, if it was just a “one night-stand” as the muggles call it. for Draco it sure wasn’t. even though he didn’t agree with the tone, he obeyed when Harry guided him to the left, leaving the great hall in silence. the room was about the size of a common room and not close as high, like a hobbit house. seizes books piled on one another in different ways, messy as possible. it’s humid and warm, clumsy with dust. Draco had never been to this room, he didn’t even know it existed. 

Harry closed the door behind him and Draco synchronic jumped around, facing the man he chased in his dreams. the formal edge of Harry’s proposal gets cut off with a single glance at his face. the brown hair is messy, like Draco remembered. his eyes don’t have a stern look at all, his eyes gleam of hope. his eyes brows curled up lazy on the inside, wrinkling his forehead and his lips smooth into a bright laugh. Draco feels his body change into the mood: eyes wide with excitement, teeth showing, hotness creeping up his spine. 

‘Draco, i never expected you here!’ Harry said, his voice rich of enthusiasm. 

‘I came for an interview with some professors, but i didn’t know you worked here.’ Draco replied, body showing his emotion better than his words ever could. the step forward and immediately backwards doesn’t go unnoticed and Harry’s smile fades when the silence grows. 

‘I’m sorry, i’m not sure if i may do that or not.’ Draco stammered, frustrated by his terrible performance. 

‘Why wouldn’t you?’ Harry asked and something in his voice sets of an alarm in Draco. ‘I mean, we have a past, a huge one actually. Draco, i’m sorry i never called, or texted, or send an owl. i guess i was scared of the consequences.’ 

‘We haven’t talked in a very long time, Harry. things have changed, some radically, but that doens’t change why i stand here right now.’ 

Harry was now the one to step forward, nearing the space between them. Draco considered grabbing him by the waist and kiss him, but the seven years of distance had its consequences. Harry is grown up, not out of his feelings for the old Draco, but what about the new one? the one who only exists for seven years? what if Harry morphed into somebody else too? what if they were correct so long ago. it doesn’t seem like it right now, but nothing is perfect. it’s about what you pick to be a problem. 

‘things have changed, that for sure. we’re both different persons, but i’d like to get to know this Draco.’ 

all the nerves he had before, all the insecurities he had before splashed of him like a waterfall and the feeling he had been missing for some time, the feeling that his life was really about to begin, curved around him. this is it. the past that always catches up, and from now on it was the future. for a very long time.

‘I’d love that.’ he smiled and stepped closer, pressuring both their chests. if he’d want to, no, if he could, he’d lean forward and lock lips with his, maybe, former lover. but he didn’t. instead, he wrapped his hands around Harry, not able to resist. luckily, Harry already hungried the same and curled himself around Draco. Harry’s heart bounded fast, and sweat dripped of his neck. how long did he wait for this moment? Harry planted a long kiss on Draco’s forehead  and Draco dreamed over the future like it was destined.

Draco: go away, Potter, with your beautiful hair, paralyzing eyes and irresistible body

Harry:

Hermoine: whAt

Ron: WhaT