one-shot: come home to me
rating: R
pairing: H/D
warnings: Mild Angst, Ship, Smut.
disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the fabulous, the one and only Ms J. K. Rowling, and therefore are not mine. This is done for pure fun, not for profit.
word count: 2406 words
summary: Even though the rest of the world has moved on, Draco still refuses to let go of his last tiny thread of hope. Written for Enchanted_jae’s monthly challenge: Harry leaned over Draco and whispered in his ear, "…".
concrit?: Reviews make me smile ;)
a/n: beta done by the lovely and wonderful hecticity.
Harry leaned over Draco and whispered in his ear, "I love you".
Draco smiled and turned his head to look at Harry, his lips puckered and ready to be kissed. But, it wasn’t Harry’s face and body he saw leaning against his side.
It was a pale, ghastly, deteriorated, and snakelike face with an evil grin.
***
Draco sat up and his eyes snapped open. His heart was pounding against his ribcage; his breath was coming out in harsh pants; his hair and nightshirt were sticking to the sweat that was now covering his body. He looked wildly around the darkened room trying to take in his surroundings and, once recognizing where he was, tried to control his breathing.
Extending his arms over his head, Draco grasped the back collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head, discarding it to the floor beside his bed. He lifted his knees, placed his elbows on them, and threaded his fingers through his damp hair twice before fisting his hands at the nape of his neck. He could feel his eyes starting to water, but refused to let the tears fall.
It was the same dream again. It was always Harry and Draco lying together, sated in their post-orgasm bliss; when Harry had leaned over and whispered in his hear those three words that Draco had craved to hear for so long. It was the first time they had ever said I love you to each other. But the dream never ended like it happened that day, with them starting another round of love-making. Instead, it ended with the evil face of Voldemort, laughing maniacally at Draco.
That night was also the last time Draco, or anybody for that matter, had seen or heard from Harry. Not even Granger or Weasley. And now after nearly three years of dead-end searches, the wizarding world was starting to believe that he was dead; that He-who-must-not-be named or one of his Death Eaters had managed to finally kill Harry Potter. After all, the Death Eater attacks had increased marginally over the years. Even Granger had told him that just maybe Harry wasn’t coming back… and that he should move on.
But Draco refused to believe it, and refused to do anything except look for Harry. Surely if Harry was really dead, he would know it. He always prided himself in knowing what Harry was feeling; even when Harry never said anything and acted like nothing was wrong. And just like then, he knew now that Harry was still alive.
Draco flopped back on the bed and took a long, deep, shuddering breath.
What’s more, Draco had been having that same dream on and off for the past three years. But it wasn’t until a couple of months ago that he had it every single night. It just had to mean something.
Draco turned over to the empty side of the bed and grabbed Harry’s pillow. Hugging it tightly to his chest, he whispered into the empty cold night, “Please come back to me, Harry”.
***
When Pansy came over to visit that afternoon, she located Draco in the same place where she had left him the day before.
Draco was hunched over the dining room table, across which he had scattered maps, Daily Prophet articles and various reports. Some were even hunched up on the chairs. Reaching the table, Pansy picked up one of the empty tea cups and scrunched her nose when she saw the tea stained china and the soaked lemon slice at the bottom of the cup. Picking up the other two empty cups, she looked back up at Draco and took in his dishevelled hair, unshaven face, baggy eyes and the black circles beneath them, and rumpled clothes.
“Draco, why don’t you take a nap while I prepare dinner?” asked Pansy, her voice soft and sympathetic.
Draco traced the different marks he had made on the map of the locations of the Death Eater attacks with a quill, and placed over it the translucent layer with the spots that marked where Harry had gone over the years to do Merlin knew what. Every time Draco asked Harry why he couldn’t go with him on his little adventures, Harry always responded ‘Because I promised’. It was on one of these excursions that Harry had gone, but this time never came back.
“I know there is a pattern here somewhere, Pansy. And once I find it, I’ll know where Harry is,” responded Draco.
Pansy sighed impatiently at Draco’s attitude. She had been trying to get him out of the house all week to no avail. It hurt her to see Draco this way, and she found herself hating Potter all the more for it. “Have you even slept at all this week?” she asked.
When there was no response, she took a deep breath and said as calmly as possible, “Look Draco, ever since that explosion in Northern Ireland three days ago, and the Ministry found all those Death Eaters dead, there has been no more attacks or sign of Voldemort. Even if you are right, and Potter was the cause for it, don’t you think he would have been back by now?”
Draco looked up with angry eyes at Pansy. “You don’t know that, Pansy. Voldemort was never found in that explosion, nor were all of his Death Eaters. For all we know, Harry could still be locked up in a dungeon somewhere, and the Ministry is doing nothing about it!”
“They haven’t found Voldemort’s body yet, and for all we know the other Death Eaters just ran away and are hiding just like 20 years ago!” countered Pansy, her voice starting to rise. When Draco refused to acknowledge her and went back to the maps, she continued, saying, “What if Potter doesn’t want to come back?”
Draco’s quill stilled and he tightened his fist around the report he was holding in the other hand.
“What if Potter just decided to bullocks it all, and start a new life in another country away from all of this? What if he is in some island in the Caribbean drinking straight from a coconut while you are here moping for him?” asked Pansy, her voice forceful. “He doesn’t deserve you, Draco! It’s been three years now! When are you going to accept the fact that Potter is never coming back?”
Draco felt as if Pansy had stabbed a knife in his heart and twisted it. He closed his eyes tightly and refused to let the tears he felt starting to prickle his eyes fall. No, thought Draco, Harry would never do that to me.
Taking a deep breath, Draco looked up back at Pansy and said in a hard voice, “Leave. You have no idea what you are talking about. If you can’t support me and help me, than you are no longer my friend. I know Harry is alive, and I know he will come back to me. Now, leave.”
When Pansy remained standing, staring back at him with wide eyes, Draco yelled at the top of his lungs “GET OUT!”
***
Draco toed off his shoes and closed the door of his home, leaning his back against it. He had just returned from a small town in Wales where it was rumoured that a man who fitted Harry’s description had been seen. Draco had travelled there immediately, but when he got there the supposed Harry impersonator was nowhere within the boundaries of the small town.
Pushing himself off the door, Draco proceeded up the stairs to his and Harry’s room for a much needed shower, discarding his clothes along the way. He was tired, frustrated, disappointed and, even though he felt guilty for feeling it, he was also angry at Harry for leaving him. He thought he had found Harry once in the dungeons of an abandoned castle in north Scotland, but it was only the corpse of another dark-haired, green-eyed man.
To top it all off, Draco was still having that same dream every night. But this time, it was neither Harry nor Voldemort who he saw when he turned his face. It was just emptiness; a figure with no face, no body, just an endless void. Draco refused to think what that might mean.
“Bloody-- Fuck!” Draco cursed, lifting his feet and wrapping his fingers around his left toes. He looked down, and noticed the heavy tomes he had been looking at spread out on the floor before he went on another dead-end search. He was about to proceed to the loo when he noticed the mirror he had been using to try and contact Harry. After the incident of his fifth year, Harry had spent a lot of money purchasing a pair of mirrors he found at the black market, and gave Draco one.
Draco picked up the mirror and took a look at his reflection. He really needed to get some sleep, but he just couldn’t. Not until he had Harry safe back in his arms.
Draco called out for Harry one more time, but it was still his reflection that was looking back at him. “Damn you!” Draco screamed, throwing the mirror to the opposite wall, where it shattered in thousand of little pieces. He felt his knees buckle, and he slumped on the floor where harsh sobs escaped his throat.
***
Harry traced light kisses along Draco’s sweaty neck, licking and nipping along the way. He traced his hand from Draco’s hip to his torso, and placed his hand flat right above Draco’s heart where he felt the wild beat of his heart as Draco panted, trying to catch his breath.
Harry leaned over Draco and whispered in his ear, "I love you".
Draco smiled and turned his head to look at Harry, his lips puckered and ready to be kissed. Harry pecked his lips, followed his nose, and leaned back to look at Draco.
Draco felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips as he took in Harry’s flushed cheeks, swollen lips and eyes shining with love. “I love you too,” whispered Draco, and leaned forward again for a kiss, which quickly deepened when he felt Harry’s tongue trace along his bottom lip.
***
Draco opened his eyes and looked straight at the moonlight coming in through his bedroom window. He blinked several times, trying to figure out what had awoken him. He could only vaguely remember his dream, but he knew that there was something different about it this time. He was about to turn over, when he felt the familiar heaviness and warmth of a body leaning against his side.
Draco quickly turned his head to make sure he wasn’t imagining things when he saw the familiar, yet older and much thinner face of his lover looking back at him. Draco’s throat closed tightly and he found himself unable to utter a word except for a whispered “Harry.”
Harry smiled down at Draco, but he turned serious again when Draco didn’t return it. He knew he should have approached Draco differently, but he just couldn’t wait any longer to see his lover. With a bit of fear, regret, love and hope in his eyes, Harry lightly traced a finger across Draco’s cheek, and leaned over to kiss him.
Draco remained still from shock and unresponsive until he felt Harry’s tongue trace his lower lip. Something clicked in Draco then, and he grabbed two fistful of Harry’s hair, thrusting his tongue inside of his lover’s mouth. He wanted to remain angry at Harry, and yell at him for leaving, for disappearing for three long years and never responding his calls through the mirror and not even sending him a bloody owl!
But he was here. Harry was finally home, where he belonged. And everything else just seemed unimportant. Nothing else mattered as long as Harry was here, with him.
Draco pushed Harry onto his back and proceeded to kiss him all over his face, his chin, and his neck, clawing his fingers along Harry’s torso, stomach and thighs, and divesting him of his clothes in the process.
Harry happily returned the favour and spread his legs to accommodate Draco between them. He nipped and licked along Draco’s shoulders and torso, closing his lips around one of Draco’s nipples and sucking hard.
Draco hissed, and bent down to kiss Harry passionately once more. He licked his palm, and, extending his hand down between them, he grabbed both of their erections and started pulling them off in time with each thrust.
They continued rubbing, kissing, nipping, licking and caressing each other, both desperate for release, until finally Harry came with a scream, spurting between them, followed closely by Draco.
Draco laid his head on top of Harry’s chest, panting harshly, trying to catch his breath. He could feel Harry’s breath coming out in pants of his own at the top of his head. His eyes started to water when he felt the echo of Harry’s heartbeat pulsing against his ear, and he tightened his arms around Harry as if afraid that he would disappear again.
After a few moments, when Draco felt he was able to breathe normally again, he said, in a voice just above a whisper, “Don’t you ever dare to leave me again. I don’t care who or what you promised, but don’t you ever do this to me again.”
Harry tightened his own arms around Draco. “I know, I promise,” whispered back Harry. And then more softly, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Draco.”
Draco lifted his head and looked back at Harry. He could really see the regret and sorry radiating from Harry’s eyes. He wanted to ask him so many questions, including ‘where have you been all this time’, ‘what happened’, ‘how come you never contacted me’ and more importantly ‘why’, ‘why did you leave’, but he knew those could wait until morning. Right now, all that really mattered was lying right here beneath him and everything else could just wait. “I know,” replied Draco. “We can talk tomorrow. I’m just glad that you’re home now.”
***
The following morning a brown barn owl flew in through Harry and Draco’s kitchen window. It placed the Daily Prophet on the kitchen table and flew back out. Right on the front page was written in bold, black letters: Lord Voldemort’s body found dead in Little Whinging.
…fin.
pairing: H/D
warnings: Mild Angst, Ship, Smut.
disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the fabulous, the one and only Ms J. K. Rowling, and therefore are not mine. This is done for pure fun, not for profit.
word count: 2406 words
summary: Even though the rest of the world has moved on, Draco still refuses to let go of his last tiny thread of hope. Written for Enchanted_jae’s monthly challenge: Harry leaned over Draco and whispered in his ear, "…".
concrit?: Reviews make me smile ;)
a/n: beta done by the lovely and wonderful hecticity.
Harry leaned over Draco and whispered in his ear, "I love you".
Draco smiled and turned his head to look at Harry, his lips puckered and ready to be kissed. But, it wasn’t Harry’s face and body he saw leaning against his side.
It was a pale, ghastly, deteriorated, and snakelike face with an evil grin.
***
Draco sat up and his eyes snapped open. His heart was pounding against his ribcage; his breath was coming out in harsh pants; his hair and nightshirt were sticking to the sweat that was now covering his body. He looked wildly around the darkened room trying to take in his surroundings and, once recognizing where he was, tried to control his breathing.
Extending his arms over his head, Draco grasped the back collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head, discarding it to the floor beside his bed. He lifted his knees, placed his elbows on them, and threaded his fingers through his damp hair twice before fisting his hands at the nape of his neck. He could feel his eyes starting to water, but refused to let the tears fall.
It was the same dream again. It was always Harry and Draco lying together, sated in their post-orgasm bliss; when Harry had leaned over and whispered in his hear those three words that Draco had craved to hear for so long. It was the first time they had ever said I love you to each other. But the dream never ended like it happened that day, with them starting another round of love-making. Instead, it ended with the evil face of Voldemort, laughing maniacally at Draco.
That night was also the last time Draco, or anybody for that matter, had seen or heard from Harry. Not even Granger or Weasley. And now after nearly three years of dead-end searches, the wizarding world was starting to believe that he was dead; that He-who-must-not-be named or one of his Death Eaters had managed to finally kill Harry Potter. After all, the Death Eater attacks had increased marginally over the years. Even Granger had told him that just maybe Harry wasn’t coming back… and that he should move on.
But Draco refused to believe it, and refused to do anything except look for Harry. Surely if Harry was really dead, he would know it. He always prided himself in knowing what Harry was feeling; even when Harry never said anything and acted like nothing was wrong. And just like then, he knew now that Harry was still alive.
Draco flopped back on the bed and took a long, deep, shuddering breath.
What’s more, Draco had been having that same dream on and off for the past three years. But it wasn’t until a couple of months ago that he had it every single night. It just had to mean something.
Draco turned over to the empty side of the bed and grabbed Harry’s pillow. Hugging it tightly to his chest, he whispered into the empty cold night, “Please come back to me, Harry”.
***
When Pansy came over to visit that afternoon, she located Draco in the same place where she had left him the day before.
Draco was hunched over the dining room table, across which he had scattered maps, Daily Prophet articles and various reports. Some were even hunched up on the chairs. Reaching the table, Pansy picked up one of the empty tea cups and scrunched her nose when she saw the tea stained china and the soaked lemon slice at the bottom of the cup. Picking up the other two empty cups, she looked back up at Draco and took in his dishevelled hair, unshaven face, baggy eyes and the black circles beneath them, and rumpled clothes.
“Draco, why don’t you take a nap while I prepare dinner?” asked Pansy, her voice soft and sympathetic.
Draco traced the different marks he had made on the map of the locations of the Death Eater attacks with a quill, and placed over it the translucent layer with the spots that marked where Harry had gone over the years to do Merlin knew what. Every time Draco asked Harry why he couldn’t go with him on his little adventures, Harry always responded ‘Because I promised’. It was on one of these excursions that Harry had gone, but this time never came back.
“I know there is a pattern here somewhere, Pansy. And once I find it, I’ll know where Harry is,” responded Draco.
Pansy sighed impatiently at Draco’s attitude. She had been trying to get him out of the house all week to no avail. It hurt her to see Draco this way, and she found herself hating Potter all the more for it. “Have you even slept at all this week?” she asked.
When there was no response, she took a deep breath and said as calmly as possible, “Look Draco, ever since that explosion in Northern Ireland three days ago, and the Ministry found all those Death Eaters dead, there has been no more attacks or sign of Voldemort. Even if you are right, and Potter was the cause for it, don’t you think he would have been back by now?”
Draco looked up with angry eyes at Pansy. “You don’t know that, Pansy. Voldemort was never found in that explosion, nor were all of his Death Eaters. For all we know, Harry could still be locked up in a dungeon somewhere, and the Ministry is doing nothing about it!”
“They haven’t found Voldemort’s body yet, and for all we know the other Death Eaters just ran away and are hiding just like 20 years ago!” countered Pansy, her voice starting to rise. When Draco refused to acknowledge her and went back to the maps, she continued, saying, “What if Potter doesn’t want to come back?”
Draco’s quill stilled and he tightened his fist around the report he was holding in the other hand.
“What if Potter just decided to bullocks it all, and start a new life in another country away from all of this? What if he is in some island in the Caribbean drinking straight from a coconut while you are here moping for him?” asked Pansy, her voice forceful. “He doesn’t deserve you, Draco! It’s been three years now! When are you going to accept the fact that Potter is never coming back?”
Draco felt as if Pansy had stabbed a knife in his heart and twisted it. He closed his eyes tightly and refused to let the tears he felt starting to prickle his eyes fall. No, thought Draco, Harry would never do that to me.
Taking a deep breath, Draco looked up back at Pansy and said in a hard voice, “Leave. You have no idea what you are talking about. If you can’t support me and help me, than you are no longer my friend. I know Harry is alive, and I know he will come back to me. Now, leave.”
When Pansy remained standing, staring back at him with wide eyes, Draco yelled at the top of his lungs “GET OUT!”
***
Draco toed off his shoes and closed the door of his home, leaning his back against it. He had just returned from a small town in Wales where it was rumoured that a man who fitted Harry’s description had been seen. Draco had travelled there immediately, but when he got there the supposed Harry impersonator was nowhere within the boundaries of the small town.
Pushing himself off the door, Draco proceeded up the stairs to his and Harry’s room for a much needed shower, discarding his clothes along the way. He was tired, frustrated, disappointed and, even though he felt guilty for feeling it, he was also angry at Harry for leaving him. He thought he had found Harry once in the dungeons of an abandoned castle in north Scotland, but it was only the corpse of another dark-haired, green-eyed man.
To top it all off, Draco was still having that same dream every night. But this time, it was neither Harry nor Voldemort who he saw when he turned his face. It was just emptiness; a figure with no face, no body, just an endless void. Draco refused to think what that might mean.
“Bloody-- Fuck!” Draco cursed, lifting his feet and wrapping his fingers around his left toes. He looked down, and noticed the heavy tomes he had been looking at spread out on the floor before he went on another dead-end search. He was about to proceed to the loo when he noticed the mirror he had been using to try and contact Harry. After the incident of his fifth year, Harry had spent a lot of money purchasing a pair of mirrors he found at the black market, and gave Draco one.
Draco picked up the mirror and took a look at his reflection. He really needed to get some sleep, but he just couldn’t. Not until he had Harry safe back in his arms.
Draco called out for Harry one more time, but it was still his reflection that was looking back at him. “Damn you!” Draco screamed, throwing the mirror to the opposite wall, where it shattered in thousand of little pieces. He felt his knees buckle, and he slumped on the floor where harsh sobs escaped his throat.
***
Harry traced light kisses along Draco’s sweaty neck, licking and nipping along the way. He traced his hand from Draco’s hip to his torso, and placed his hand flat right above Draco’s heart where he felt the wild beat of his heart as Draco panted, trying to catch his breath.
Harry leaned over Draco and whispered in his ear, "I love you".
Draco smiled and turned his head to look at Harry, his lips puckered and ready to be kissed. Harry pecked his lips, followed his nose, and leaned back to look at Draco.
Draco felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips as he took in Harry’s flushed cheeks, swollen lips and eyes shining with love. “I love you too,” whispered Draco, and leaned forward again for a kiss, which quickly deepened when he felt Harry’s tongue trace along his bottom lip.
***
Draco opened his eyes and looked straight at the moonlight coming in through his bedroom window. He blinked several times, trying to figure out what had awoken him. He could only vaguely remember his dream, but he knew that there was something different about it this time. He was about to turn over, when he felt the familiar heaviness and warmth of a body leaning against his side.
Draco quickly turned his head to make sure he wasn’t imagining things when he saw the familiar, yet older and much thinner face of his lover looking back at him. Draco’s throat closed tightly and he found himself unable to utter a word except for a whispered “Harry.”
Harry smiled down at Draco, but he turned serious again when Draco didn’t return it. He knew he should have approached Draco differently, but he just couldn’t wait any longer to see his lover. With a bit of fear, regret, love and hope in his eyes, Harry lightly traced a finger across Draco’s cheek, and leaned over to kiss him.
Draco remained still from shock and unresponsive until he felt Harry’s tongue trace his lower lip. Something clicked in Draco then, and he grabbed two fistful of Harry’s hair, thrusting his tongue inside of his lover’s mouth. He wanted to remain angry at Harry, and yell at him for leaving, for disappearing for three long years and never responding his calls through the mirror and not even sending him a bloody owl!
But he was here. Harry was finally home, where he belonged. And everything else just seemed unimportant. Nothing else mattered as long as Harry was here, with him.
Draco pushed Harry onto his back and proceeded to kiss him all over his face, his chin, and his neck, clawing his fingers along Harry’s torso, stomach and thighs, and divesting him of his clothes in the process.
Harry happily returned the favour and spread his legs to accommodate Draco between them. He nipped and licked along Draco’s shoulders and torso, closing his lips around one of Draco’s nipples and sucking hard.
Draco hissed, and bent down to kiss Harry passionately once more. He licked his palm, and, extending his hand down between them, he grabbed both of their erections and started pulling them off in time with each thrust.
They continued rubbing, kissing, nipping, licking and caressing each other, both desperate for release, until finally Harry came with a scream, spurting between them, followed closely by Draco.
Draco laid his head on top of Harry’s chest, panting harshly, trying to catch his breath. He could feel Harry’s breath coming out in pants of his own at the top of his head. His eyes started to water when he felt the echo of Harry’s heartbeat pulsing against his ear, and he tightened his arms around Harry as if afraid that he would disappear again.
After a few moments, when Draco felt he was able to breathe normally again, he said, in a voice just above a whisper, “Don’t you ever dare to leave me again. I don’t care who or what you promised, but don’t you ever do this to me again.”
Harry tightened his own arms around Draco. “I know, I promise,” whispered back Harry. And then more softly, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Draco.”
Draco lifted his head and looked back at Harry. He could really see the regret and sorry radiating from Harry’s eyes. He wanted to ask him so many questions, including ‘where have you been all this time’, ‘what happened’, ‘how come you never contacted me’ and more importantly ‘why’, ‘why did you leave’, but he knew those could wait until morning. Right now, all that really mattered was lying right here beneath him and everything else could just wait. “I know,” replied Draco. “We can talk tomorrow. I’m just glad that you’re home now.”
***
The following morning a brown barn owl flew in through Harry and Draco’s kitchen window. It placed the Daily Prophet on the kitchen table and flew back out. Right on the front page was written in bold, black letters: Lord Voldemort’s body found dead in Little Whinging.
…fin.