Gravity [Part 15] (Harry/Draco; PG [this part, R overall])
Title: Gravity [Part 15]
Author: _melodic_
Prompt used:
Word Count: ~970
Rating: PG [this part, R overall]
Warning: Stupid amounts of UST.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Harry meets Malfoy at a teashop.
Author's Notes: This is part 15 of a continuous story with 25 parts. Catch up with Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13 and Part 14.
Thank you so much to kerrilee for the beta!
Harry pushes open the door to the teashop and is instantly greeted by the most inviting aromas. Warm spices, floral sweetness and rich toffee waft towards him and he breathes in the delectable scents. He spots Malfoy right away, sitting at a small table by the window, his bright hair shining out like a beacon.
“Potter.” Malfoy’s eyes light up as Harry takes a seat. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course,” Harry replies amiably.
Honestly, Harry was a bit torn when he received the owl from Malfoy the other day. Of course he wanted to meet up with Malfoy-desperately so-but, with his feelings running so rampant, he wasn’t certain it was a good idea. Eventually, desire won over reason. Besides, Harry does have some amount of self control. He loves spending time with Malfoy and he’s loathe to ruin their budding friendship due to his wayward urges and rising emotions.
“What can I get you boys?” A young witch with bouncy dark curls and bright red lips appears at their table and interrupts Harry from his thoughts.
“I’ll take a darjeeling tea with some lemon on the side.”
“Oh, hm.” Harry chews his lip. “I’ll have an earl grey, with lots of sugar.”
“Would you like that on the side or shall we add it in for you?” The witch’s quill hovers over her notepad.
“Uh.” Harry considers for a moment. “Both, please.”
“Merlin.” Malfoy chuckles softly. “Miss?” The witch turns around with a raised eyebrow. “We’ll take some shortbread biscuits as well.” The witch nods and hurries off and Malfoy turns his attention back to Harry. “Still have quite the sweet tooth, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” Harry admits, blushing. He restlessly toys with the edge of the lacy tablecloth. “So, how have you been?”
“I’ve been well. Working plenty of extra shifts now that the holiday is nearly upon us.”
“Yeah.” Harry nods his head. “It was madness even getting here. The streets are packed.”
“‘Tis the season.” Malfoy gratefully accepts his cup of tea as the waitress sets it down. “I wanted to thank you again for taking me out for a drink the other night. I had a really good time.”
“It was my pleasure,” Harry replies sincerely, warming his hands against his steaming cup of tea.
“To be honest, I was a little nervous coming back to England,” Malfoy admits, staring down at the table.
“Why?”
“I know most of the more radical Malfoy hate had died down by the end of Eighth year, but I wasn’t entirely sure how well received my return would be.” Malfoy takes a long sip from his teacup before continuing. “It was part of the reason why I left right after graduation to travel.”
“Oh?” Harry urges on.
“It was difficult to stay in England, all the terrible memories and haunting nightmares at every turn. More than that, though, was all the guilt and remorse over my actions and the pain they caused.”
“You can’t blame yourself for everything, Malfoy.” Harry leans forward and speaks softly. “You were a boy and you were scared and trying to protect your family.”
“I was a coward,” Malfoy mutters bitterly. “I was ignorant and weak and made every wrong choice possible.”
“Not every wrong choice,” Harry says fiercely. “You saved my life more than once.”
“I think you’ve got that the other way around,” Malfoy responds dryly.
“No,” Harry asserts. “You didn’t identify me at the Manor and later you wouldn’t let your friends kill me even though, admittedly, you were terrified.”
“And then you saved me from the flames.” Malfoy’s eyes turn dark and haunted. “I still have nightmares about that night.”
“Me too,” Harry admits.
“I was so reluctant to come back to Hogwarts for Eighth year.” Malfoy nervously toys with a shortbread biscuit, breaking it into several pieces. “Mother insisted.”
“I’m glad she did.” Harry reaches to grab his own biscuit, dipping it into his tea before taking a large bite.
“Yeah, me too.” Malfoy smiles softly. “It wasn’t easy. In fact, it was rather painful and awkward for some time, but in the end it was worth it.” Malfoy looks up, locking eyes with Harry, his face shining with sincerity. “I never really thanked you.”
“For what?” Harry asks around a mouthful of crumbs.
“For your friendship back then.” Malfoy’s cheeks turn pink. “It really meant a lot to me. Even if it was part of your whole hero complex.”
“It was not! Besides, I don’t have a hero complex,” Harry grumbles, ignoring Malfoy’s disbelieving raised eyebrow. “You had changed. Or maybe I just started to finally see what was there all along.”
“You mean after I stopped being such a prat all the time?”
“Yeah, basically.” Harry chuckles before sobering up. “Listen, I forgave you a long time ago. I think at some point, you just have to forgive yourself.”
“Maybe,” Malfoy says softly. His hand reaches out, soft and warm as his thumb brushes against Harry’s lower lip and chin. Harry’s breath catches in his throat and he clenches his hands into fists beneath the table. “Sorry.” Malfoy’s face turns bright red. “You had some crumbs on your face.”
“Oh.” Harry returns Malfoy’s intense blush, scrubbing at his face. His skin tingles where Malfoy’s fingers touched him. “Did I get it?”
“Yes.” Malfoy smiles fondly. “Anyway, my shift is just about to start. I better get to work.”
“Okay,” Harry watches Malfoy rise, his head still in a daze from Malfoy’s simple touch.
“I hope to see you soon…” Malfoy’s words trail off and he swallows nervously before continuing. “...Harry.”
Malfoy hurries out the teashop and the bells on the door ring gently as he closes it behind him. Pleasant flames of warmth and happiness erupt in Harry’s chest and he grins into his teacup.
Harry.
~*~*~
Continue with Part 16
Author: _melodic_
Prompt used:
Word Count: ~970
Rating: PG [this part, R overall]
Warning: Stupid amounts of UST.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Harry meets Malfoy at a teashop.
Author's Notes: This is part 15 of a continuous story with 25 parts. Catch up with Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13 and Part 14.
Thank you so much to kerrilee for the beta!
Harry pushes open the door to the teashop and is instantly greeted by the most inviting aromas. Warm spices, floral sweetness and rich toffee waft towards him and he breathes in the delectable scents. He spots Malfoy right away, sitting at a small table by the window, his bright hair shining out like a beacon.
“Potter.” Malfoy’s eyes light up as Harry takes a seat. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course,” Harry replies amiably.
Honestly, Harry was a bit torn when he received the owl from Malfoy the other day. Of course he wanted to meet up with Malfoy-desperately so-but, with his feelings running so rampant, he wasn’t certain it was a good idea. Eventually, desire won over reason. Besides, Harry does have some amount of self control. He loves spending time with Malfoy and he’s loathe to ruin their budding friendship due to his wayward urges and rising emotions.
“What can I get you boys?” A young witch with bouncy dark curls and bright red lips appears at their table and interrupts Harry from his thoughts.
“I’ll take a darjeeling tea with some lemon on the side.”
“Oh, hm.” Harry chews his lip. “I’ll have an earl grey, with lots of sugar.”
“Would you like that on the side or shall we add it in for you?” The witch’s quill hovers over her notepad.
“Uh.” Harry considers for a moment. “Both, please.”
“Merlin.” Malfoy chuckles softly. “Miss?” The witch turns around with a raised eyebrow. “We’ll take some shortbread biscuits as well.” The witch nods and hurries off and Malfoy turns his attention back to Harry. “Still have quite the sweet tooth, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” Harry admits, blushing. He restlessly toys with the edge of the lacy tablecloth. “So, how have you been?”
“I’ve been well. Working plenty of extra shifts now that the holiday is nearly upon us.”
“Yeah.” Harry nods his head. “It was madness even getting here. The streets are packed.”
“‘Tis the season.” Malfoy gratefully accepts his cup of tea as the waitress sets it down. “I wanted to thank you again for taking me out for a drink the other night. I had a really good time.”
“It was my pleasure,” Harry replies sincerely, warming his hands against his steaming cup of tea.
“To be honest, I was a little nervous coming back to England,” Malfoy admits, staring down at the table.
“Why?”
“I know most of the more radical Malfoy hate had died down by the end of Eighth year, but I wasn’t entirely sure how well received my return would be.” Malfoy takes a long sip from his teacup before continuing. “It was part of the reason why I left right after graduation to travel.”
“Oh?” Harry urges on.
“It was difficult to stay in England, all the terrible memories and haunting nightmares at every turn. More than that, though, was all the guilt and remorse over my actions and the pain they caused.”
“You can’t blame yourself for everything, Malfoy.” Harry leans forward and speaks softly. “You were a boy and you were scared and trying to protect your family.”
“I was a coward,” Malfoy mutters bitterly. “I was ignorant and weak and made every wrong choice possible.”
“Not every wrong choice,” Harry says fiercely. “You saved my life more than once.”
“I think you’ve got that the other way around,” Malfoy responds dryly.
“No,” Harry asserts. “You didn’t identify me at the Manor and later you wouldn’t let your friends kill me even though, admittedly, you were terrified.”
“And then you saved me from the flames.” Malfoy’s eyes turn dark and haunted. “I still have nightmares about that night.”
“Me too,” Harry admits.
“I was so reluctant to come back to Hogwarts for Eighth year.” Malfoy nervously toys with a shortbread biscuit, breaking it into several pieces. “Mother insisted.”
“I’m glad she did.” Harry reaches to grab his own biscuit, dipping it into his tea before taking a large bite.
“Yeah, me too.” Malfoy smiles softly. “It wasn’t easy. In fact, it was rather painful and awkward for some time, but in the end it was worth it.” Malfoy looks up, locking eyes with Harry, his face shining with sincerity. “I never really thanked you.”
“For what?” Harry asks around a mouthful of crumbs.
“For your friendship back then.” Malfoy’s cheeks turn pink. “It really meant a lot to me. Even if it was part of your whole hero complex.”
“It was not! Besides, I don’t have a hero complex,” Harry grumbles, ignoring Malfoy’s disbelieving raised eyebrow. “You had changed. Or maybe I just started to finally see what was there all along.”
“You mean after I stopped being such a prat all the time?”
“Yeah, basically.” Harry chuckles before sobering up. “Listen, I forgave you a long time ago. I think at some point, you just have to forgive yourself.”
“Maybe,” Malfoy says softly. His hand reaches out, soft and warm as his thumb brushes against Harry’s lower lip and chin. Harry’s breath catches in his throat and he clenches his hands into fists beneath the table. “Sorry.” Malfoy’s face turns bright red. “You had some crumbs on your face.”
“Oh.” Harry returns Malfoy’s intense blush, scrubbing at his face. His skin tingles where Malfoy’s fingers touched him. “Did I get it?”
“Yes.” Malfoy smiles fondly. “Anyway, my shift is just about to start. I better get to work.”
“Okay,” Harry watches Malfoy rise, his head still in a daze from Malfoy’s simple touch.
“I hope to see you soon…” Malfoy’s words trail off and he swallows nervously before continuing. “...Harry.”
Malfoy hurries out the teashop and the bells on the door ring gently as he closes it behind him. Pleasant flames of warmth and happiness erupt in Harry’s chest and he grins into his teacup.
Harry.
~*~*~
Continue with Part 16