HP Fanfic: Everything I Need (Harry/Draco, PG)
Title: Everything I Need
Rating: PG
Warnings: Just a little bit of flangst.
Word Count: 1200
Summary: The first Christmas after the war's end, neither Draco nor Harry have a holiday like those they're used to.
Author's notes: Written for mugglegato, for the 2011 Secret Santa exchange at leo_palooza.
Without even a word--before Harry even walked through the door, in fact--Draco knew that it had been a rough day. It was in the way his shoulders hunched up, not just fighting off the chill of a frigid Christmas eve. It was in the way he walked, deliberate and trudging. And it was in the way he paused outside the front door before coming in, as if he was trying to gather his thoughts or pull himself together enough to pretend nothing was wrong, because he didn't know that Draco could see him through the tiny window in the kitchen.
"In here!" Draco called as Harry's heavy footsteps fell just inside the door. It wasn't as if Harry would have to search long to find him in any case--Draco's new home was old and small, even less to look at than Snape's place in Spinner's End had been--but this way, he could judge Harry's mood by how long it took him to get here. Right away, and there might be a chance at salvaging the evening. If he took a while...well...he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
After the sound of Harry stomping snow off his boots before removing them and another pause that Draco couldn't help counting (eleven seconds; not good, but he'd already known that from seeing Harry approach the little cottage), Harry appeared in the doorway to the area that served as both kitchen and dining room. "What are you doing in here?"
Draco shifted slightly, in order to block Harry's view. "Just trying my hand at a new skill. Sit. How was...how was it?"
Sitting heavily in an old chair that probably wouldn't hold up much longer to that sort of treatment, Harry sighed. "I don't know. Great. Horrible. Both at once." When Draco turned around, Harry was sitting with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. "I knew it would be different, you know? But Mrs Weasley was so insistent that I come. And it was good to see them all. It's just.... It's the first Christmas after the war, and someone found a gift marked for Fred, and Mrs Weasley spent the next hour crying so hard Mr Weasley had to take her upstairs for a bit. And after that, you know, I just couldn't..."
"Harry," Draco said softly, hiding what he'd been doing behind the tin of biscuits his mother had sent from France, where they were staying with old friends of hers, "I know." He gestured to their surroundings. "This Christmas isn't anything like those we're used to. The Weasleys are mourning, along with hundreds of other families. You're not with your friends. I'm not with my parents at the manor. Instead, I've got this run-down little shack that won't respond to improvement spells, and little-to-no skill when it comes to things in the kitchen." He crossed to the small table and crouched down. "You know what else I have?"
Harry gave a little shrug that pained Draco somewhere deep in his chest. He knew Harry was hurting, having to deal with the fact that for all he had done for the wizarding world in general, there were some things he simply could not make better. In a way, he supposed, that was more difficult than having your money and your home taken away while the Ministry went through everything with a fine-toothed comb, trying to figure out how long they could tie things up
before releasing funds and property. "What?"
"I have you," Draco said, putting one hand lightly on Harry's arm. Harry looked up then, green eyes bright and cheeks flushed from the cold, his face showing surprise overwriting the misery. "I still don't know how we came to this, and so quickly, given our history, but I have you, and I'm not taking it for granted. This isn't the Christmas either of us wanted, but it's the one we have, right? And at least we have it together."
Harry did smile then, still looking slightly shocked, and Draco thought there might be no better present. "Yeah." He snorted softly. "Never would have guessed, even eight months ago, that there was a side of you not concerned with your money or your status."
Draco swatted at him lightly as he got up from the floor. "Yes, well, eight months ago, you hadn't even guessed you might fancy blokes, so I guess it's no shock you're not all-knowing." He moved back to the counter and pulled the two mugs of hot chocolate from their hiding spot. He really was nearly useless in a kitchen, but he was learning, if only because he couldn't bear to put up with sub-par meals and take-away, or having Harry bring him meals like he was a charity case. But hot chocolate, even with home-made whipped cream, he could handle.
He was putting the peppermint stick in each mug when Harry spoke again. "Hey, Draco?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for proving me wrong."
This time, Draco was the one to snort. "It's what I live for, you know." He turned around and handed Harry one of the mugs, smiling at the shocked expression on Harry's face. "Come on. Let's go into the living room and warm up. There's a fire going and everything."
"But no tree," Harry said, taking his drink and following Draco into the other room. "Draco, I know I've already offered, but I have more than enough. Wouldn't you like me to buy--"
"No." Draco set his drink down on the small table next to the small sofa and took Harry's, setting it down alongside. "I've told you. One of the many lessons of the last year: I need to stop relying upon other people to provide. More importantly, I need to stop living like my father taught me to and learn to be my own person. And you know what? I don't really like the smell of pine, anyway. Gives me a headache. I don't need a tree, and I don't need a flat in London. I don't need expensive decorations, or furniture, or expensive anything--other than that shampoo," he allowed, earning a smirk from Harry. "I have what I need right here." He pulled Harry close. "Everything I could need or want, at my fingertips, after all."
Harry reached one hand around and caught Draco around the waist, pressing them both together from knees to hips before leaning in to kiss Draco, long and deep, sweet but with a hint of fire. In that moment, Draco forgot entirely about the bare cottage, the hot chocolate on the table, and everything else that wasn't Harry, feeling a thrill run through him as it always did when they shared a moment like this. "And you always will," he whispered. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
Rating: PG
Warnings: Just a little bit of flangst.
Word Count: 1200
Summary: The first Christmas after the war's end, neither Draco nor Harry have a holiday like those they're used to.
Author's notes: Written for mugglegato, for the 2011 Secret Santa exchange at leo_palooza.
Without even a word--before Harry even walked through the door, in fact--Draco knew that it had been a rough day. It was in the way his shoulders hunched up, not just fighting off the chill of a frigid Christmas eve. It was in the way he walked, deliberate and trudging. And it was in the way he paused outside the front door before coming in, as if he was trying to gather his thoughts or pull himself together enough to pretend nothing was wrong, because he didn't know that Draco could see him through the tiny window in the kitchen.
"In here!" Draco called as Harry's heavy footsteps fell just inside the door. It wasn't as if Harry would have to search long to find him in any case--Draco's new home was old and small, even less to look at than Snape's place in Spinner's End had been--but this way, he could judge Harry's mood by how long it took him to get here. Right away, and there might be a chance at salvaging the evening. If he took a while...well...he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
After the sound of Harry stomping snow off his boots before removing them and another pause that Draco couldn't help counting (eleven seconds; not good, but he'd already known that from seeing Harry approach the little cottage), Harry appeared in the doorway to the area that served as both kitchen and dining room. "What are you doing in here?"
Draco shifted slightly, in order to block Harry's view. "Just trying my hand at a new skill. Sit. How was...how was it?"
Sitting heavily in an old chair that probably wouldn't hold up much longer to that sort of treatment, Harry sighed. "I don't know. Great. Horrible. Both at once." When Draco turned around, Harry was sitting with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. "I knew it would be different, you know? But Mrs Weasley was so insistent that I come. And it was good to see them all. It's just.... It's the first Christmas after the war, and someone found a gift marked for Fred, and Mrs Weasley spent the next hour crying so hard Mr Weasley had to take her upstairs for a bit. And after that, you know, I just couldn't..."
"Harry," Draco said softly, hiding what he'd been doing behind the tin of biscuits his mother had sent from France, where they were staying with old friends of hers, "I know." He gestured to their surroundings. "This Christmas isn't anything like those we're used to. The Weasleys are mourning, along with hundreds of other families. You're not with your friends. I'm not with my parents at the manor. Instead, I've got this run-down little shack that won't respond to improvement spells, and little-to-no skill when it comes to things in the kitchen." He crossed to the small table and crouched down. "You know what else I have?"
Harry gave a little shrug that pained Draco somewhere deep in his chest. He knew Harry was hurting, having to deal with the fact that for all he had done for the wizarding world in general, there were some things he simply could not make better. In a way, he supposed, that was more difficult than having your money and your home taken away while the Ministry went through everything with a fine-toothed comb, trying to figure out how long they could tie things up
before releasing funds and property. "What?"
"I have you," Draco said, putting one hand lightly on Harry's arm. Harry looked up then, green eyes bright and cheeks flushed from the cold, his face showing surprise overwriting the misery. "I still don't know how we came to this, and so quickly, given our history, but I have you, and I'm not taking it for granted. This isn't the Christmas either of us wanted, but it's the one we have, right? And at least we have it together."
Harry did smile then, still looking slightly shocked, and Draco thought there might be no better present. "Yeah." He snorted softly. "Never would have guessed, even eight months ago, that there was a side of you not concerned with your money or your status."
Draco swatted at him lightly as he got up from the floor. "Yes, well, eight months ago, you hadn't even guessed you might fancy blokes, so I guess it's no shock you're not all-knowing." He moved back to the counter and pulled the two mugs of hot chocolate from their hiding spot. He really was nearly useless in a kitchen, but he was learning, if only because he couldn't bear to put up with sub-par meals and take-away, or having Harry bring him meals like he was a charity case. But hot chocolate, even with home-made whipped cream, he could handle.
He was putting the peppermint stick in each mug when Harry spoke again. "Hey, Draco?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for proving me wrong."
This time, Draco was the one to snort. "It's what I live for, you know." He turned around and handed Harry one of the mugs, smiling at the shocked expression on Harry's face. "Come on. Let's go into the living room and warm up. There's a fire going and everything."
"But no tree," Harry said, taking his drink and following Draco into the other room. "Draco, I know I've already offered, but I have more than enough. Wouldn't you like me to buy--"
"No." Draco set his drink down on the small table next to the small sofa and took Harry's, setting it down alongside. "I've told you. One of the many lessons of the last year: I need to stop relying upon other people to provide. More importantly, I need to stop living like my father taught me to and learn to be my own person. And you know what? I don't really like the smell of pine, anyway. Gives me a headache. I don't need a tree, and I don't need a flat in London. I don't need expensive decorations, or furniture, or expensive anything--other than that shampoo," he allowed, earning a smirk from Harry. "I have what I need right here." He pulled Harry close. "Everything I could need or want, at my fingertips, after all."
Harry reached one hand around and caught Draco around the waist, pressing them both together from knees to hips before leaning in to kiss Draco, long and deep, sweet but with a hint of fire. In that moment, Draco forgot entirely about the bare cottage, the hot chocolate on the table, and everything else that wasn't Harry, feeling a thrill run through him as it always did when they shared a moment like this. "And you always will," he whispered. "Because I'm not going anywhere."