#seer!harry

“You’re brilliant. I don’t know what it says about me that I kind of like it when you’re being snobby, but I really like it when you’re being snobby.” Draco sniffed. “Yes, well,” he said. “I like it when you’re easygoing about me being mean. It makes things approximately a billion times easier.” “I know,” Potter said feelingly, “Can you imagine what we’d be like if I took every little thing you said seriously?” “I think we’d have a few more actual arguments,” Draco replied. “I think that’s an understatement,” Potter responded

Just A Fic Idea (4)

That future where he had presumably got over all the things that Malfoy had done, all the things he had said. Harry was fucking terrified of it.

“You’re not sure you deserve what we have.” Her voice cut through his thoughts. “What do we have, Pansy?” he said in a derisive tone, but it didn’t deter her. “Happiness.” Draco opened his mouth to say something but Pansy kept going. “No. We do. Not all the time, but enough of the time. Enough of the time to say that we’re happy, in general. Which I know is more than you ever thought you would get. You feel guilty. And you feel like you deserve unhappiness. But Potter doesn’t have a monopoly on happiness, Draco. He’s not the only one who gets to move on.” He buried his face in her hair. He didn’t want to say it out loud because it sounded, well… like it sounded, and then Pansy would shout at him. But Draco knew that he didn’t deserve to move on. Not in the way that Pansy was talking about anyway. She held him closer. “You did awful things. The Ministry punished you. You’re living with that punishment. You’re trying to be better. That’s it, Draco. Listen to me, you deserve to move forward as well. You deserve the chance to not be shitty anymore.

Draco thought it might be impossible to be angry at Harry Potter for more than three minutes at a time. He’d managed it well enough back at school, but that was before they knew each other. Now if he got angry at Potter it would be like kicking a puppy. He thought about having Potter asleep in his house, feeling comfortable under his roof. He found himself looking forward to the morning, when Potter would be awake and alert and witty and they could talk to each other. Draco had seen something in Potter’s face tonight, in his glorious eyes, and knew that they were creating something amongst themselves. It was such a fucking relief, that feeling, when so many of their previous interactions had been based on destruction, and death, and leaving nothing where before there was something.

It doesn’t sound bad. I think it sounds brilliant actually and I suppose I should tell you both right now that I’ve decided that Malfoy isn’t evil anymore. That hypotheses is based on little-to-no evidence and we should all be very worried about me. Anyway this is the part where the word fucked comes in, because now I want to find out.