Happy Birthday, idontgiveafaux!
Title: Days By Your Side - Starting Again
Author: Lire lire_casander
Beta: Lovely B. Any mistakes left are my own.
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Maybe I've learnt from the Gryffindor side of my bed
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own in any shape or form these characters, JK does. Only playing with them for my own amusement and yours.
Warning(s): Angst. Fluff.
Word Count: 1057
Author's Notes: Written for idontgiveafaux's birthday with this prompt. I hope you enjoy this, honey, and that you have a wonderful day!
Author's Note 2: This also fits prompt Assistant at hpfanfic10x10.
The first days were a complete nightmare for Draco. It wasn't that he was not used to living with Harry - after all they had shared their lives for months in Australia - it was the fear he felt whenever he thought of getting out of the house on his own. He had heard of riots against remaining Death Eaters, and though he didn't have a mark in his forearm he couldn't help being worried. Therefore, he was reduced to remaining locked in Harry's house, for he had even rejected the suggestion of Flooing some of his friends.
"All of them are either in Azkaban or dead," he had said at Harry's words.
"Pansy isn't locked away, and I'm certain she is still alive," Harry had retorted.
"Pansy is just a dirty traitor. At least I stayed until I was cleared of all charges. She fled instead of facing the consequences of her actions."
"Isn't it what Slytherins do?" Harry had asked, half joking.
"Maybe I've learnt from the Gryffindor side of my bed."
With those words Draco had silenced Harry and they hadn't talked about him visiting his few friends left in Great Britain. But the calm that kept them still could only last so long, and sooner than Draco would have liked, Harry's leave expired and his boyfriend was called back to work.
"Try to understand," Harry had said the first morning of his returning to work. "Shacklebolt wants me back, and I cannot refuse his offer. I already prolonged my leave because I had found you in Australia; this is his way to offer me a last favour. And we'll need the money; we can't live off our savings the rest of our lives."
"Are you implying I'm poor?" Draco had asked from behind his newspaper, where he had hidden in a vain attempt to bury his face in printed letters.
"What? Draco, I never said..."
"We both know that the Saviour is rich, so if we cannot live off the savings then the reason has something to do with me," Draco had continued. "Either I'm poor or I would waste your money."
Harry had rolled his eyes at the statement, choosing to remain silent instead of replying to words said from the depths of pure fear at being left alone. When he had left, he had deposited a kiss on Draco's forehead and had walked away muttering something about imaginative, self-centered, gorgeous boyfriends. It was when Draco found himself sitting alone in the kitchen that he allowed his true feelings to arise. He hid his head in his hands and started trembling.
He had learned to live on his own the months he had spent in Australia, building a new life for himself. But Harry had found him and changed his world, and Draco had become quite fond of his new situation. Now, back in a country he had abandoned out of fear and regret, Draco had grown aware of his own vulnerability; he had recalled the reasons why he had left in the first place, and he had started to worry. In a world free of fear, he had nothing to offer to Harry. He felt that, in the end, his boyfriend would realize how hollow the relationship he had put himself into was and would try to get out of it as soon as possible. He scribbled a note on a piece of parchment and left it on the table, burying his head once again in his hands immediately afterwards.
That was how Harry found him at the end of the day, when he came back home after an eight-hour shift.
"Draco," Harry exclaimed, worried, rushing towards his boyfriend still sitting at the kitchen table. "Draco, are you all right? Draco!"
When he got no response, he lifted Draco's chin and found out his boyfriend had fallen sleep with tears still drying on his cheeks. Harry decided to take Draco upstairs and straight to their bedroom, all the while musing about the reasons why Draco must have been crying. He had spotted the piece of parchment on the kitchen table, so he took it and read it on his way upstairs.
I am sorry for not being good enough to deserve loving you.
It had no signature, but Harry knew Draco inside out and recognized the desperate sound of the words. After spending the whole night awake, Harry found a solution to his dilemma.
The next morning when Draco went downstairs, Harry was already waiting for him, a piece of toast in his hand and the newspaper in the other. He handed both to the blond without a word. At first Draco was pleasantly surprised, but when Harry even moved a chair so Draco could sit more comfortably, he started to grow suspicious.
"What's going on here, Harry?" he demanded in his best calm voice.
"Nothing at all."
"Oh, yes, definitely something." Draco arched an elegant brow. "You are not this nice and obliging unless you want something."
Harry seemed scandalized. "Maybe I'm just trying to make up for everything you lost coming back here with me."
"Is that so?" Draco smiled sadly. "I didn't lose anything, because I had nothing to lose."
"I don't like it when you say those things," Harry frowned. "You deserve much more than what you set yourself up for."
"Really?" Draco didn't need to look into Harry's eyes to read in them what his heart already knew - that his desperate note had reached him. "And what do I deserve?"
"For starters, an assistant. To help you organizing your things."
"Really?" Draco repeated, this time following what he thought was a joke. "I should hire one then."
"I wouldn't allow you to. You'd choose the fittest man in the world and I'd grow jealous so… I've decided to be your part-time assistant. Starting this afternoon after my boring work at the Ministry."
Draco smiled wickedly, his mind providing new ideas, his worries promptly forgotten. "Now that you're my assistant, Potter, I expect you to do everything I ask."
"And that includes…?"
"Well, you're not expected at work until ten, right?" Not waiting for a reply, Draco wriggled his finger at Harry and smirked. "I think I may have something I'd like you to help me clean…"
Harry had never followed Draco so eagerly and quickly to their bedroom.
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Author: Lire lire_casander
Beta: Lovely B. Any mistakes left are my own.
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Maybe I've learnt from the Gryffindor side of my bed
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own in any shape or form these characters, JK does. Only playing with them for my own amusement and yours.
Warning(s): Angst. Fluff.
Word Count: 1057
Author's Notes: Written for idontgiveafaux's birthday with this prompt. I hope you enjoy this, honey, and that you have a wonderful day!
Author's Note 2: This also fits prompt Assistant at hpfanfic10x10.
The first days were a complete nightmare for Draco. It wasn't that he was not used to living with Harry - after all they had shared their lives for months in Australia - it was the fear he felt whenever he thought of getting out of the house on his own. He had heard of riots against remaining Death Eaters, and though he didn't have a mark in his forearm he couldn't help being worried. Therefore, he was reduced to remaining locked in Harry's house, for he had even rejected the suggestion of Flooing some of his friends.
"All of them are either in Azkaban or dead," he had said at Harry's words.
"Pansy isn't locked away, and I'm certain she is still alive," Harry had retorted.
"Pansy is just a dirty traitor. At least I stayed until I was cleared of all charges. She fled instead of facing the consequences of her actions."
"Isn't it what Slytherins do?" Harry had asked, half joking.
"Maybe I've learnt from the Gryffindor side of my bed."
With those words Draco had silenced Harry and they hadn't talked about him visiting his few friends left in Great Britain. But the calm that kept them still could only last so long, and sooner than Draco would have liked, Harry's leave expired and his boyfriend was called back to work.
"Try to understand," Harry had said the first morning of his returning to work. "Shacklebolt wants me back, and I cannot refuse his offer. I already prolonged my leave because I had found you in Australia; this is his way to offer me a last favour. And we'll need the money; we can't live off our savings the rest of our lives."
"Are you implying I'm poor?" Draco had asked from behind his newspaper, where he had hidden in a vain attempt to bury his face in printed letters.
"What? Draco, I never said..."
"We both know that the Saviour is rich, so if we cannot live off the savings then the reason has something to do with me," Draco had continued. "Either I'm poor or I would waste your money."
Harry had rolled his eyes at the statement, choosing to remain silent instead of replying to words said from the depths of pure fear at being left alone. When he had left, he had deposited a kiss on Draco's forehead and had walked away muttering something about imaginative, self-centered, gorgeous boyfriends. It was when Draco found himself sitting alone in the kitchen that he allowed his true feelings to arise. He hid his head in his hands and started trembling.
He had learned to live on his own the months he had spent in Australia, building a new life for himself. But Harry had found him and changed his world, and Draco had become quite fond of his new situation. Now, back in a country he had abandoned out of fear and regret, Draco had grown aware of his own vulnerability; he had recalled the reasons why he had left in the first place, and he had started to worry. In a world free of fear, he had nothing to offer to Harry. He felt that, in the end, his boyfriend would realize how hollow the relationship he had put himself into was and would try to get out of it as soon as possible. He scribbled a note on a piece of parchment and left it on the table, burying his head once again in his hands immediately afterwards.
That was how Harry found him at the end of the day, when he came back home after an eight-hour shift.
"Draco," Harry exclaimed, worried, rushing towards his boyfriend still sitting at the kitchen table. "Draco, are you all right? Draco!"
When he got no response, he lifted Draco's chin and found out his boyfriend had fallen sleep with tears still drying on his cheeks. Harry decided to take Draco upstairs and straight to their bedroom, all the while musing about the reasons why Draco must have been crying. He had spotted the piece of parchment on the kitchen table, so he took it and read it on his way upstairs.
I am sorry for not being good enough to deserve loving you.
It had no signature, but Harry knew Draco inside out and recognized the desperate sound of the words. After spending the whole night awake, Harry found a solution to his dilemma.
The next morning when Draco went downstairs, Harry was already waiting for him, a piece of toast in his hand and the newspaper in the other. He handed both to the blond without a word. At first Draco was pleasantly surprised, but when Harry even moved a chair so Draco could sit more comfortably, he started to grow suspicious.
"What's going on here, Harry?" he demanded in his best calm voice.
"Nothing at all."
"Oh, yes, definitely something." Draco arched an elegant brow. "You are not this nice and obliging unless you want something."
Harry seemed scandalized. "Maybe I'm just trying to make up for everything you lost coming back here with me."
"Is that so?" Draco smiled sadly. "I didn't lose anything, because I had nothing to lose."
"I don't like it when you say those things," Harry frowned. "You deserve much more than what you set yourself up for."
"Really?" Draco didn't need to look into Harry's eyes to read in them what his heart already knew - that his desperate note had reached him. "And what do I deserve?"
"For starters, an assistant. To help you organizing your things."
"Really?" Draco repeated, this time following what he thought was a joke. "I should hire one then."
"I wouldn't allow you to. You'd choose the fittest man in the world and I'd grow jealous so… I've decided to be your part-time assistant. Starting this afternoon after my boring work at the Ministry."
Draco smiled wickedly, his mind providing new ideas, his worries promptly forgotten. "Now that you're my assistant, Potter, I expect you to do everything I ask."
"And that includes…?"
"Well, you're not expected at work until ten, right?" Not waiting for a reply, Draco wriggled his finger at Harry and smirked. "I think I may have something I'd like you to help me clean…"
Harry had never followed Draco so eagerly and quickly to their bedroom.
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