Harry Potter | Harry/Draco
Title: here we are as in olden days
Author: sunsetdawn20
Word Count: 100 and 200
Rating: so far PG-13
Pairings: Harry/Draco (so far background pairings: Blaise/Ginny, Neville/Hannah, broken Ron/Hermione)
Prompt: #1 snowy Diagon Alley #2 Christmas tree decoration #3 owl flying #4 icy window #5 staircase with tree #6 christmas stockings
Warning: angst
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Author's Notes: Draco has been in love with Harry for a long time but it only brought him heartache so far. This Christmas things are about to change.
This post will be updated every day as prompts are posted at slythindor100
“Why did I let you drag me here?” Draco huffs as he’s dragged into yet another shop in Diagon Alley by little Amelia Longbottom.
“Because my daughter is unfairly cute and you have a soft core underneath that hard shell of yours,” Neville grins, completely unfazed by Draco’s mood. He’s dealt with worse in the past decade of their friendship.
Draco catches himself almost smiling as Amelia starts running around in the store, so he quickly transforms it into a sneer and brushes snow off his robe.
“I hate Christmas,” he says.
Neville rolls his eyes.
“No. You really don’t.”
“Please, Uncle Draco. Pleasepleaseplease,” Amelia is holding an enchanted Christmas tree decoration that is softly humming a carol, and she turns her huge brown eyes on Draco, knowing full well he won’t be able to resist. He sometimes wonders what Neville will say when she eventually gets sorted into Slytherin.
Draco sighs. “Fine...”
“No,” Neville interrupts softly but firmly. “Put that back Mel, Uncle Draco bought you more than enough gifts already.”
Draco wants to say he doesn’t mind, but he’s learned early on never to interfere with parenting - a single afternoon at Ginny and Blaise’s taught him never to go against their parental decisions if he doesn’t want to get hexed.
Amelia gives it another try but then sighs and goes to put the decoration back on the shelf. Draco follows her with his gaze and that’s when he sees Him.
He freezes. All air is momentarily knocked out of his lungs. His heart skips a beat.
“Hey,” Neville snaps Draco out of it, squeezing his shoulder gently. He has that warm, sad, knowing look on his face that always makes Draco nauseous. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
Draco nods. He turns once more but Harry is gone.
Dear Narcissa,
both Hannah and I are very happy you accepted the invitation to our Christmas party. We are looking forward to seeing you again, it’s been too long since you and I could have a good talk about gardening. Draco tells me you have recently acquired some magnificent rarities, and I’m more than intrigued.
However, I must admit, I also have other reasons for wishing to see you. I’m worried about Draco, as I’m sure you must be too. I don’t wish to impose, but I was hoping we could discuss the matter before the party.
Best wishes,
Neville
Draco is standing at the window, even though the intricate icy patterns covering the glass make it impossible to see the world hidden under all that snow. Part of him is glad, he doesn’t like snow. It reminds him of the war - of dead bodies freezing into the ground and hidden from view by falling snowflakes. By the end the battlefield was like a minefield of corpses.
“Hey,” Granger’s voice shakes Draco out of his thoughts. He sneers out of reflex, but then makes the effort to soften his features just a bit. She seems to appreciate the effort and smiles at him.
“Nice party,” he says a bit stiffly, because as much as he hates the cliché of that statement, there really isn’t much else he can think of saying to her.
“Yes,” she glances around, taking in one more time the decoration, the warmth of the fireplace, the huge Christmas tree, and all the guests laughing and talking animatedly. “Hannah did put a lot of effort into planning it.”
“Indeed.”
She smiles a little awkwardly and Draco really can’t understand why she even feels compelled to try talking to him. He glances at Weasley across the room and finds him watching. He’s not glaring, like he would have even a few years ago, he barely even seems to register Draco, he’s just watching his soon to be ex-wife and looks profoundly sad. Draco doesn’t want to think about their impending divorce, he might not have been a fan of those two but on some level even he gets it how utterly wrong it is for them to separate.
“How have you been?” she asks, eyes focusing everywhere but on him.
“Fine.”
“The papers don’t write about you that much anymore.”
“They don’t.”
Part of Draco is surprised she noticed - then again, it was hard to miss. The media seemed keen to document the Malfoy family’s rehabilitation after the war, but thankfully, after a decade they started losing interest in the story.
They descend into an awkward silence but Granger seems unwilling to just walk away from the conversation neither of them really wants to have.
Somewhere behind them another champagne bottle is opened and Draco thinks he’s not nearly had enough to drink to be able to handle Granger.
“Don’t you just see dead people in every snowflake?” she suddenly asks and Draco shivers.
“What do you want, Granger?” he asks more sharply than he intends. She cringes, as if him saying the name she’ll soon be wearing again is like a blow in the stomach.
She bites her lower lip, as if weighing her next words, but Draco is not paying attention anymore because something he sees in the corner of his eyes catches his attention. Movement. A familiar figure walking down the festively decorated staircase. Smiling brightly at everyone.
“Come and see me one of these days,” Granger says but Draco is only half-listening, focused on Harry with every fibre of his being. To him it feels strange that the whole room doesn’t just stop at the raw magnetic power that is so uniquely Harry, then again, maybe those around him daily get used to that overwhelming sensation of his presence - maybe that’s what friends are for Harry, people, who don’t get blown away whenever he enters the room. Draco didn’t used to get that - he’s not sure he does now but seeing Harry standing under the Christmas tree, watching the room, unseen for a few more moments, affects him more than he cares to admit.
“Draco,” Granger gently touches his arm and the unexpected contact makes Draco involuntarily take a step back and glare at her.
“What?” But he’s not really expecting an answer, he looks back towards the Christmas tree at the bottom of the staircase where Harry was standing just a moment ago but Draco can’t see him now.
“Draco I really need to talk to you,” Granger says and Draco can feel anger bubbling inside him.
“What about?” he asks irritably.
“Harry,” she says quietly. Draco’s expression hardens and something inside him goes very cold.
“What?” he sneers with all the venom he used to have once.
“Listen, I’m living at Luna’s now, just... please, come and talk to me. I know you still care about Harry and...”
Draco simply turns and walks away. None of this has anything to do with her and while he values Neville’s friendship too much to point that out so crudely in the middle of the party, he’s not going to just listen to whatever comment she intends to make.
The garden is gorgeously lit with Christmas lights that illuminate the snowy bushes and pines with an almost ephemeral glow. Draco shivers and wraps his arms around himself.
“You’re cold,” a familiar voice says behind him and Draco closes his eyes for a second to steel himself for the conversation he’s not strong enough to escape.
“Hello, Harry,” he says tiredly.
“What are you doing out here alone?”
Draco shrugs. “What about you?”
“I’m here because of you.”
“Don’t,” Draco says sharply. The gentle warmth in Harry’s voice twists something inside him. A memory he wishes he could forget - a memory of one cold winter morning, waking up to Harry watching him with a soft smile.
“I miss you, Draco.”
“No,” Draco snaps. “You left me, Harry. You don’t get to do this.”
Every step Draco takes away from Harry hurts but what hurts even more is that Harry doesn’t follow.
“Good morning,” Harry breathes an open mouthed kiss on Draco’s shoulder.
“Too early,” Draco groans and elbows Harry in the stomach. But Harry just laughs, a bright, sunny sound that Draco can’t believe Harry still managed to protect from the horrors of the war.
“Is it too early even for Christmas presents?” he asks smugly. Draco feels instantly awake but he hides it artfully behind a longsuffering sigh.
“Fine,” he yawns. “What did you get me? I hope it’s nothing cheap.”
Harry nudges his ankle not too gently.
“Well?” Draco looks up at him expectantly. Harry’s grin brightens.
“I got you this,” he says and places a soft kiss on Draco’s collarbone. “And this.” Another kiss, this time on Draco’s arching neck. “And this.” A third kiss, soft and warm against Draco’s lips, swallowing any protest or complaint that Draco might have.
Draco wakes with a start, sitting up in bed, breathing hard. And it aches. It aches inside his chest and his mind and the very marrow of his bones how much he misses how it used to be.
Author: sunsetdawn20
Word Count: 100 and 200
Rating: so far PG-13
Pairings: Harry/Draco (so far background pairings: Blaise/Ginny, Neville/Hannah, broken Ron/Hermione)
Prompt: #1 snowy Diagon Alley #2 Christmas tree decoration #3 owl flying #4 icy window #5 staircase with tree #6 christmas stockings
Warning: angst
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Author's Notes: Draco has been in love with Harry for a long time but it only brought him heartache so far. This Christmas things are about to change.
This post will be updated every day as prompts are posted at slythindor100
“Why did I let you drag me here?” Draco huffs as he’s dragged into yet another shop in Diagon Alley by little Amelia Longbottom.
“Because my daughter is unfairly cute and you have a soft core underneath that hard shell of yours,” Neville grins, completely unfazed by Draco’s mood. He’s dealt with worse in the past decade of their friendship.
Draco catches himself almost smiling as Amelia starts running around in the store, so he quickly transforms it into a sneer and brushes snow off his robe.
“I hate Christmas,” he says.
Neville rolls his eyes.
“No. You really don’t.”
“Please, Uncle Draco. Pleasepleaseplease,” Amelia is holding an enchanted Christmas tree decoration that is softly humming a carol, and she turns her huge brown eyes on Draco, knowing full well he won’t be able to resist. He sometimes wonders what Neville will say when she eventually gets sorted into Slytherin.
Draco sighs. “Fine...”
“No,” Neville interrupts softly but firmly. “Put that back Mel, Uncle Draco bought you more than enough gifts already.”
Draco wants to say he doesn’t mind, but he’s learned early on never to interfere with parenting - a single afternoon at Ginny and Blaise’s taught him never to go against their parental decisions if he doesn’t want to get hexed.
Amelia gives it another try but then sighs and goes to put the decoration back on the shelf. Draco follows her with his gaze and that’s when he sees Him.
He freezes. All air is momentarily knocked out of his lungs. His heart skips a beat.
“Hey,” Neville snaps Draco out of it, squeezing his shoulder gently. He has that warm, sad, knowing look on his face that always makes Draco nauseous. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
Draco nods. He turns once more but Harry is gone.
Dear Narcissa,
both Hannah and I are very happy you accepted the invitation to our Christmas party. We are looking forward to seeing you again, it’s been too long since you and I could have a good talk about gardening. Draco tells me you have recently acquired some magnificent rarities, and I’m more than intrigued.
However, I must admit, I also have other reasons for wishing to see you. I’m worried about Draco, as I’m sure you must be too. I don’t wish to impose, but I was hoping we could discuss the matter before the party.
Best wishes,
Neville
Draco is standing at the window, even though the intricate icy patterns covering the glass make it impossible to see the world hidden under all that snow. Part of him is glad, he doesn’t like snow. It reminds him of the war - of dead bodies freezing into the ground and hidden from view by falling snowflakes. By the end the battlefield was like a minefield of corpses.
“Hey,” Granger’s voice shakes Draco out of his thoughts. He sneers out of reflex, but then makes the effort to soften his features just a bit. She seems to appreciate the effort and smiles at him.
“Nice party,” he says a bit stiffly, because as much as he hates the cliché of that statement, there really isn’t much else he can think of saying to her.
“Yes,” she glances around, taking in one more time the decoration, the warmth of the fireplace, the huge Christmas tree, and all the guests laughing and talking animatedly. “Hannah did put a lot of effort into planning it.”
“Indeed.”
She smiles a little awkwardly and Draco really can’t understand why she even feels compelled to try talking to him. He glances at Weasley across the room and finds him watching. He’s not glaring, like he would have even a few years ago, he barely even seems to register Draco, he’s just watching his soon to be ex-wife and looks profoundly sad. Draco doesn’t want to think about their impending divorce, he might not have been a fan of those two but on some level even he gets it how utterly wrong it is for them to separate.
“How have you been?” she asks, eyes focusing everywhere but on him.
“Fine.”
“The papers don’t write about you that much anymore.”
“They don’t.”
Part of Draco is surprised she noticed - then again, it was hard to miss. The media seemed keen to document the Malfoy family’s rehabilitation after the war, but thankfully, after a decade they started losing interest in the story.
They descend into an awkward silence but Granger seems unwilling to just walk away from the conversation neither of them really wants to have.
Somewhere behind them another champagne bottle is opened and Draco thinks he’s not nearly had enough to drink to be able to handle Granger.
“Don’t you just see dead people in every snowflake?” she suddenly asks and Draco shivers.
“What do you want, Granger?” he asks more sharply than he intends. She cringes, as if him saying the name she’ll soon be wearing again is like a blow in the stomach.
She bites her lower lip, as if weighing her next words, but Draco is not paying attention anymore because something he sees in the corner of his eyes catches his attention. Movement. A familiar figure walking down the festively decorated staircase. Smiling brightly at everyone.
“Come and see me one of these days,” Granger says but Draco is only half-listening, focused on Harry with every fibre of his being. To him it feels strange that the whole room doesn’t just stop at the raw magnetic power that is so uniquely Harry, then again, maybe those around him daily get used to that overwhelming sensation of his presence - maybe that’s what friends are for Harry, people, who don’t get blown away whenever he enters the room. Draco didn’t used to get that - he’s not sure he does now but seeing Harry standing under the Christmas tree, watching the room, unseen for a few more moments, affects him more than he cares to admit.
“Draco,” Granger gently touches his arm and the unexpected contact makes Draco involuntarily take a step back and glare at her.
“What?” But he’s not really expecting an answer, he looks back towards the Christmas tree at the bottom of the staircase where Harry was standing just a moment ago but Draco can’t see him now.
“Draco I really need to talk to you,” Granger says and Draco can feel anger bubbling inside him.
“What about?” he asks irritably.
“Harry,” she says quietly. Draco’s expression hardens and something inside him goes very cold.
“What?” he sneers with all the venom he used to have once.
“Listen, I’m living at Luna’s now, just... please, come and talk to me. I know you still care about Harry and...”
Draco simply turns and walks away. None of this has anything to do with her and while he values Neville’s friendship too much to point that out so crudely in the middle of the party, he’s not going to just listen to whatever comment she intends to make.
The garden is gorgeously lit with Christmas lights that illuminate the snowy bushes and pines with an almost ephemeral glow. Draco shivers and wraps his arms around himself.
“You’re cold,” a familiar voice says behind him and Draco closes his eyes for a second to steel himself for the conversation he’s not strong enough to escape.
“Hello, Harry,” he says tiredly.
“What are you doing out here alone?”
Draco shrugs. “What about you?”
“I’m here because of you.”
“Don’t,” Draco says sharply. The gentle warmth in Harry’s voice twists something inside him. A memory he wishes he could forget - a memory of one cold winter morning, waking up to Harry watching him with a soft smile.
“I miss you, Draco.”
“No,” Draco snaps. “You left me, Harry. You don’t get to do this.”
Every step Draco takes away from Harry hurts but what hurts even more is that Harry doesn’t follow.
“Good morning,” Harry breathes an open mouthed kiss on Draco’s shoulder.
“Too early,” Draco groans and elbows Harry in the stomach. But Harry just laughs, a bright, sunny sound that Draco can’t believe Harry still managed to protect from the horrors of the war.
“Is it too early even for Christmas presents?” he asks smugly. Draco feels instantly awake but he hides it artfully behind a longsuffering sigh.
“Fine,” he yawns. “What did you get me? I hope it’s nothing cheap.”
Harry nudges his ankle not too gently.
“Well?” Draco looks up at him expectantly. Harry’s grin brightens.
“I got you this,” he says and places a soft kiss on Draco’s collarbone. “And this.” Another kiss, this time on Draco’s arching neck. “And this.” A third kiss, soft and warm against Draco’s lips, swallowing any protest or complaint that Draco might have.
Draco wakes with a start, sitting up in bed, breathing hard. And it aches. It aches inside his chest and his mind and the very marrow of his bones how much he misses how it used to be.