jusquici-tout-va-drarry - Tumblr blog

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

Pointy-chinned git (flattery): Draco Malfoy. You love to hate him. Love to love him? Both. Both is good.

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

Come to me

Grimmauld’s jetblack roof. A starlit sky. Two former enemies. Harry’s eyes, eager. Draco’s mouth, thin. He’s breathtakingly pale. Broom in hand. Freshly windswept hair.

”Can’t stay long, I’m afraid.”

”I wish we had more time. For how long does it have to be like this? I hate it.”

”Not for long. She doesn’t have long now.”

Hands caressing cheeks. Fistfuls of clothes. Kisses upon kisses. Draco’s breaths, faster. Harry inhaling deeply.

”And then you’ll come to me? Fully?”

Harry’s grip hardens. Draco’s gaze steady.

”Yes, Harry. Then I’ll be fully yours.”

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

Soft drarry kiss i was comissioned by @softcasdean :) 💖

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

This! THIS! Sorry, am I SHOUTING? I AM bc this was soo sweet and I am gone for the boys pining game <3 Also, is it hot in here? That final mating scene had me FLUSHED I tell you...

for your doodle recs: draco in a bathtub (maybe with long hair? or not, whatever you like)

or any draco angst djskdjsks

i love all your art <33

TW // blood, mild gore, implied self-harm

how about BOTH (+ veela!draco)

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

I don't know if anybody already wrote this buuut here's and idea: everyone is avoiding Malfoy and Harry is avoiding everyone - so they polyjuice into one another and loves it (why yes make it kinky by all means) and ofc fall for eachother in the process...!

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

This! I'm IN!! My first writing challenge and it's gonna be so much fun!

2021 Summer Writin' Challenge (multifandom/OF)

The challenge is to write a fic/ficlet/drabble each week for 8 weeks (starting Monday 28 June and ending Sunday 22 August) based on a combination of prompt + up to three items from 3 different categories (Tropes, Craft, Character/Object).

I'm interested! Tell me more!

There's a spreadsheet. Click here and make a copy for your own use.

The idea is that, once you choose a prompt, the Trope can inspire the plot or theme, the Character/Object category might give you some further plot inspiration or a character to use, and the Craft is a chance for you to stretch your writing skills. By the end of the challenge you'll have written 8 pieces of writing, which will all showcase different tropes or craft elements.

3 Levels of Challenge:

Playful: Prompt + 1 item from a category (any)

Example: Prompt + Trope (Rain + Fake Dating), or Prompt + Craft (Rain + 2nd POV), or Prompt + Character/Object (Rain + Vampire).

Badass: Prompt + 2 items (from 2 different categories)

Example: The ocean + 2nd POV + silver bracelet

Hardcore: Prompt + 3 items (1 from each category)

Example: Salt + fake dating + epistolary + neon lights

.

Rules:

You can make your choice any way you want, throw dice, use a random number generator, or settle on whichever combination is more inspiring to you each time.

BUT: Once you use an item from any category, you can't use it again.

(this means the challenge will be harder as you go on :)) Perhaps start with harder things for you so you can leave some easy items for later)

ALSO: You can't use 2 items from the same category. If you want to do prompt + 2-3 items, they have to be from different categories. (Or, if you have an idea for a story that includes 2 tropes (or objects etc), you can write your story but you can only count one of them as being used for the challenge.)

Please include the combination you've used in your Author's Notes. I love seeing people's creativity in the way they interpret prompts.

You don't have to stick to the same level throughout the summer, if you don't want to. You can go Playful one week, Hardcore the other.

The deadline for each work is on the Sunday of each week so 4/7, 11/7, 18/7, 25/7, 1/8 and so on. You're free to post your writing earlier in the week if you wish, but pls stick to one story per week. A marathon, not a sprint :)

FAQ

Where can I post my writing?

Tumblr (tag: 2021 Summer Writin), AO3 (AO3 Collection here) or anywhere you want.

I'm busy in July. Can I jump in later?

You sure can!

What happens if I can't write a story every week?

Er....nothing. This is for fun :))

What if I want to write more than 8 fics or wish to continue using these prompts for inspiration for longer?

No problem, I'll be delighted if people are so inspired!

Can I write about my obscure OTP?

The challenge is open to all fandoms, all ships and Original Fic too.

I'm a minor. Can I take part?

If you're under 18, feel free to make a copy of the spreadsheet for your own use (and I hope you find it inspiring and challenging), but please don't interact with this blog further than that.

.

My thanks to @glittering-git and @phd-mama for their help in brainstorming <3

Go forth and create!

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

OMG! Must take a day or two to recover from allt the feels this one made me feel. So so amzn!!

slip through the cracks of my hand

@drarrymicrofic prompt: parallel

i just want to write about food and sugar gliders. enjoy.

AO3

Draco doesn’t beg. The last time he did was back in the War, and some things are better as fading memories. He doesn’t beg because he picks his battles. He knows when he loses.

When he gets Owls back that start with ‘Unfortunately,...’ or none at all. When Pansy cuts off contact with him because her twenty-four-years-older husband doesn’t want her to associate with ‘that sort,’ never mind her very recent past. When his current job has him cleaning the kitchen and washing the dishes because having him in the front means losing loyal customers. When Goyle beats him black and blue before escaping to the States. When Mother finds herself laid next to the Longbottoms, only speaking to him because his long hair reminds her of Lucius.

When the public has stopped its rage against war criminals and deflated to resignation, preferring to just ignore and go on with their day, and when Ms. Remington deems it sensible then to give him more work, and by more work, she means actually serving customers.

“No Glamour and disguises of any kind,” she smiles in the way only old, harmless ladies smile. “We want an authentic experience for everyone involved.”

“Understood,” Draco says.

Ms. Remington doesn’t stay in her office that day, preferring to smile and observe by the hostess stand. She likes that he doesn’t look anyone in the eye; it gives her the opportunity to tell curious customers that ‘we encourage change in this establishment’ and ‘he’s shy, the lad, learned a thing or two from his… decisions.’

Draco hears it all, because how can he not? Ms. Remington likes capturing people’s attention as much as she likes encouraging change, and by the time he ducks to the kitchen and takes his place by the sink, he wonders if the post office minds seeing his resume again.

Either way, his Prophet subscription has been canceled ages ago and he has no desire to read the drivel people call news these days. But, he reckons his haggard self in the restaurant’s ancient uniform must have made the front page, or at least the second, because why else would Harry Potter be sitting here, looking at him?

This line of thinking is bound to give Draco a big head, he thinks. Potter probably eats at La Villa before, and Draco’s never seen him around since he’s worked in the kitchen until recently. It’s a bit strange, though, how he only gestures for Draco’s help instead of the waiter working at his table.

“Can I have a, uh,” Potter wipes his hand on a napkin, “another spoon?”

“Another one?”

“Yeah, I dropped mine.”

Draco glances at the spoon sitting to the side and refrains from asking Potter if he knows the incantation to Scourgify. He gets a new spoon anyway. Ten minutes after walking away, Potter calls him back.

“Is your dining experience subpar, sir?” Draco asks before Potter opens his mouth. “Is there any major flaw you think should be fixed in order to improve your time here?”

“I, no,” Potter says, “why?”

“Due to the frequency of me being summoned to your table, my supervisor has some questions about my performance and its inadequacy,” Draco folds his hands behind his back, staring at the tablecloth. “If you let me know what I can do, then you won’t have to keep calling for help and have your meal interrupted.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Yes,” Draco supplies.

Potter leans back on his chair and taps the table, silent.

“No, you have nothing to worry about,” he concludes, still tapping. “It’s my fault. I’m not used to restaurants, so I’m a bit clumsy. Sorry for troubling you these past few days.”

Not a regular, then.

“Hey, uh, sorry, do you wa-”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Draco says. “If you have any questions, Tessa can help you. She’s the one with brass arms and works at your table. Enjoy your meal, sir.”

With a slight bow, Draco goes to focus on his own tables. He’s not called back again, but for the next few months, that table has unofficially become Potter’s domain.

Potter comes in any time from six to eight PM every other day, avoiding rush hour and choosing the table with the best vantage point in La Villa (near the entrance, back against the wall, easy view of the entire restaurant and out the windows). He rarely ever summons Tessa and only sips on wine when Draco cleans the tables. The hype has died down about his patronage and Draco’s existence, Ms. Remington has stopped running her mouth, so generally, it’s been peaceful.

That is, until the day she appears.

The restaurant closes up at eight instead of ten today; spattergroit is making its rounds and has rendered Ms. Remington along with four other servers bedridden. Business is slow as well, so Draco is just about to lock the entrance when Luna Lovegood walks in.

She takes her seat at Potter’s table at 7:24 PM alone, waving Draco over the moment she catches his eyes. He shares a glance with Tessa, who hands him a paper butterfly and pats his back. She resumes mopping a spill from earlier.

“Good evening, welcome to La Villa,” Draco blows on the paper butterfly. In gentle loops, it flaps to the table as it increases in size, eventually becoming a proper menu. Lovegood catches it mid-air and a giggle bursts from her throat.

“My, oh my,” she gushes, flipping through the menu. “What fun! No wonder Harry always comes here.”

A ringed finger runs down the lists of appetizers and main courses, its owner humming to herself. Leaving her to it, Draco turns to leave.

“Wait.”

He looks over his shoulder. Lovegood has her hands clasped below her chin, eyes glued to the menu.

“It’s boring, sitting here alone. How about a quick chat?”

“Ma’am,” Draco says, “I’m on the clock. I can’t do that.”

“Are we not near closing time already?” Lovegood lifts her head. Draco lowers his. “This won’t take up much of your time, I promise.”

“Ma’am,” he tries again, “yes, we are near closing time. Therefore, if you order a quick meal as you wait for us to close up, then we shall have our conversation soon after eight. Do you know what you want to order yet?”

“Draco Malfoy, please sit down.”

His mouth clamps shut. This is the first time he’s ever heard the former Ravenclaw adopt this tone.

She flicks her wand, and the chair in front of her slides back with a small screech. Draco flinches. He doesn’t sit down.

“Do what she says,” a voice whispers in his ear. Tessa’s. “Come on, just humor her. Me and Jeremiah will finish up.”

Draco throws her a look. She replies by jabbing his back with her mop handle and turning away. He swallows, then slowly sits on the chair, not sliding it close to the table. His eyes move to the black binding of the menu and stay there. Lovegood closes it and rests her elbow upon it, no manners whatsoever.

“Won’t you look at me?”

After a second, Draco does.

“What are you here for?” He says.

Lovegood’s lips stretch into a beatific grin. The straw hat on her head slightly tips to the side, blanketing half of her face in shadows.

“What are you here for?”

Draco doesn’t know what to say.

“What’s happened to you?” He asks after a moment.

Quiet murmurs from one server to another leak through the soft notes of jazz trickling from speakers. Something clangs in the kitchen. Paper butterflies flutter to their container without prompting.

The Luna Lovegood before him looks like how she’s always looked. Strange, timeless.

“Will you listen,” she answers, “to what I have to say?”

She’s unrecognizable.

OoO

Draco scrubs the carrots clean with a brush, then dries them with a kitchen towel. It’s a bit cold still in the spring, but he wants a bountiful harvest when winter recedes, so the moment the carrots show hints of flowering, he immediately plucks them up.

No frost, so the daikon also encountered little trouble. Cutting the leaves away for later, he cleans and dries the white root before peeling the skin off. A pot of vinegar, salt, and sugar boil over the stovetop, then he moves the solution to the counter to cool. Meanwhile, he juliennes the vegetables and places them in a bowl, pouring salt over the mixture. As he squeezes the salt in to absorb, something lands on his shoulder.

“Hello, you,” he murmurs, “the grapes are to your right.”

As if it can understand English, the sugar glider noses at Draco’s apron strap for a second before clambering down his arm, sailing away before it reaches the bowl. Unlike Muggle gliders, this one’s patagia stretch into a perfect circle as it lands straight into the fruit bowl Draco’s laid out. Eyeing the way it shamelessly gathers as many berries and grapes as its tiny body can handle, he knows its brethren are soon to arrive. The kitchen window is open for this purpose, after all.

When he moved to the fringes of this mountainside village, the villagers warned him of ‘pygmy demons’ and to keep his windows closed. Said they’d steal his food and trash his home before disappearing into the darkness. As it turns out, these so-called demons are simply a colony of sugar gliders that can turn invisible, save for their yellow-red eyes. He’s used to them, though. As long as he feeds them fruit and doesn’t chase them out, they don’t wreck his cottage with mid-air wrestling.

A symbiotic relationship, as he likes to call it.

Letting the salted daikon-carrot mixture sit for a while, Draco turns to the daikon leaves. It’s tough chewing on greens all year with just salt and pepper. Thus, once a month, he hitches a ride on the old woodworker couple’s truck to the city, lugging home jugs of imported soy sauce, mirin, et cetera. After washing and chopping the leaves, he throws them into a pan and whips up a batch of furikake to last the week. Breathing in the nutty aroma of sesame oil, Draco goes to wash the salt from the daikon-carrot mixture.

High-pitched chirps fill the tiny kitchen, and he doesn’t need eyes to know that at least three more gliders have flown in.

“Do play nice,” he says offhandedly, “else I’ll keep the windows shut and you’ll have to fight over weeping-beetle eggs for the next month.”

An almost imperceptible weight perches on his shoulder. A wet snout flicks at his cheek, long, bushy tail brushing his nape. Only one glider likes to linger like so on him, the one with just a single ear.

“I know, Billy dear,” he wrings water from the daikon-carrot mixture through a cheesecloth. “Those damn eggs are hard to find, huh. Not enough to feed all of you, are they?”

Little Billy headbutts Draco’s jaw.

“Oh, I have no worries about you. You never get difficult, unlike your brethren.”

After the mixture is all dried, he divides it into glass jars and fills them to the brim with the vinegar solution. He picked up this pickled daikon and carrot, or ‘đồ chua,’ as well as the daikon leave furikake recipes from an old Asian cookbook—many thanks to the city library. Putting everything into the fridge, Draco pulls out his leftover mushroom soup to heat up in a pot.

The fruit bowl is already depleted and the gliders are on their way out, pausing to tumble onto Draco’s head before leaping out the window. He tilts his head, not stopping his stirring, and feels clever paws climbing up from his shoulder. Little Billy swipes his tail on Draco’s forehead as a good-bye, then joins his colony.

“See you in a mo’.”

Closing the window, Draco lowers the heat and ladles the soup out into a wooden bowl. The Griffiths don’t accept any kind of monetary payment for this bowl, which is egregious considering how small their woodworking business is, so he’ll have to think of a thank-you gift for them. Do woodworkers have dry hands? Most likely, with all that sawdust. A lasting, high-quality tub of hand cream should do the trick.

The kettle sitting by whistles in rage. Draco brews a cup of tea—white blended with almond and vanilla, excellent for the chill. He pulls on gloves, a second pair of socks, and a thick turtleneck, then steps onto the front porch. Settling the tray of his lunch on the small table, he sits on the wicker chair, sighing in contentment.

Little Billy comes back when Draco’s a few bites in. Letting the earthy, spicy taste of mushroom soup warm up his stomach, he watches Little Billy munch on his own food.

“Cordium nuts? How you even found these is beyond me,” Draco lets go of his spoon to scritch Billy’s head. That familiar snout digs into his cheek like a peck, wet and cold, and he huffs out a laugh.

“Hello.”

My, if that’s not a voice Draco hasn’t heard in ages.

“Either I’m really desperate for human company and am hallucinating,” Draco blows on his tea, “or Harry Potter is actually standing in front of me.”

“Is this really time for jokes?”

Draco lifts his eyes from his mug. Potter isn’t standing in front of him but off to the side, leaning against the door frame with crossed arms. His hair is cropped shorter than Draco’s ever seen it—what’s the term, a burr cut?—making the scar across his forehead and eye more jagged, the edges harsher. His eyes aren’t the same, however, their shade of moss-green reminding Draco of the life his garden is regaining. He’s definitely not dressed for the weather, what with that thin jacket and apparently unlined jeans. The hiking boots look alright, though.

“Stop zoning out,” Potter’s voice cuts through his assessment. “I mean, no rush. But the sooner we leave, the better.”

“Hmm. Are you cold?”

“I,” Potter raises his brows, “a little. Why?”

Draco points to the chair on the other side of the small table.

“Take a seat and cast a Warming charm over yourself. I’ll be out in a tick.”

At that, Draco walks into the cottage and closes the door behind him, not letting cold air in.

“Well, Silly-Billy,” he muses. Billy perks up at the sound of his name, still eating the nuts stored in his pouch-like patagia, “I’ve truly seen it all. Harry Potter actively seeking me out, what a concept.”

The mushroom soup is warm and very much edible, but he heats it up anyway until it starts simmering. On his way to the door, another wooden bowl in hand, he spots the throw on his armchair.

“If the Dark Lord knew how soup and a blanket could shock you this easily, you wouldn’t have made it past five years old,” Draco says when Potter jumps at the sight of him.

“What? No,” he frowns, staring at the steaming bowl of soup on the table, then at the throw draped over his lap. “What the hell’s all this?”

“Aren’t you cold?”

“I guess.”

“I’m cold, too,” Draco sits on his own chair, curling his legs up. He sets his soup bowl on his knee. “Do you know what I do when I’m cold? Eat hot things and dress warmly. Works like heaven.”

Potter picks up his spoon and swirls the soup around, scooping up a slice of mushroom, green bits of parsley sticking to it. “You know, I’m…I already ate, thank you.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

Draco puts his bowl on the table and leans over. Potter runs hot like a sauna, judging by how his skin feels when Draco’s hand circles his wrist and brings it closer. Closing his mouth around the spoon, Draco has to give himself a mental pat on the back. The meaty texture of cremini mushroom and the spicy sweetness of half-sharp paprika only add to the soup’s creamy, comforting decadence. It’s another recipe he picked up from a cooking book he borrowed. Hungarian, to be specific.

Draco lets go of Potter’s wrist and sits back. “See? Not dead. Poisoning you would be a waste of my time,” he waves a hand. “Scourgify that spoon and eat. Then, we can talk about whatever you’re here for.”

When Potter finally stops trying to stare the soul out of Draco and eats his food, Draco is already halfway done and Little Billy is descending down his arm, sniffing the bowl. The glider’s curiosity soon fades and he climbs up, trying to burrow himself into Draco’s collar.

“Are you sick?” Potter inquires around a mouthful of mushroom. After a few careful bites, he’s been practically inhaling the soup. “It’s not that cold, though.”

“Nerve damage,” Draco says, pulling on thin strands of memories he’s tried his hardest to forget. “The Manor reeked of Dark magic and it did a number on everyone who lived there. We witches, we live longer than Muggles and thus, the consequences of old age hit us much later, like when we’re ninety, for example. And yet, Father’s joint pain started in his early thirties and made him use a cane. Mother started losing hair a year or two after she moved into the Manor.

“A few rounds of Crucio may shake the typical person up a little, but it’s nothing they can’t get over. As for me, my hands and feet went a bit numb soon after. It’s not very persistent, I think, not like chronic Muggle neuropathy,” he ignores Potter’s horrified look. “I moved out after the War to not get exposed to Dark magic as much as my parents, so the symptoms just flare up every now and then. Sometimes I touch the stovetop and it takes a moment for it to sink in that I’m getting a burn. Nothing I can’t handle.”

His hand flies to his mouth. “Oh, sorry. I don’t really speak about this to anyone. That was a tangent, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Potter looks at his soup, then at Draco. “Is that why you’re covering up?”

“Oh, yes. No matter how much I prefer this over hot days, cold weather is hell on my nerves. Can’t drink coffee, either,” Draco pats his mug. “Caffeine-free. Very good brand, this, phenomenal taste. I can recommend it to you,” he tilts his head, “though I’m not sure if they have it there.”

“Who have it the—oh,” Potter straightens, touching his forehead in realization. His hand slides back to his nape. “Fuck, how did I forget?”

He fiddles with his watch, murmuring something like ‘got time.’ Turning to Draco, Potter’s eyes remain empty of bitter harshness, but they’re fierce. Draco thinks of courtyards and immature duels, and represses a wistful, a bit regretful, sigh.

“I’m not here to hang out. I’m here to bring you back.”

Draco’s gaze flickers from one green eye to the other, then finishes the last bit of his soup. Wiping his mouth with a cotton napkin, Draco leans against his chair. He cradles his mug with his right hand while Little Billy plays with his left.

“Bring me back,” Draco says. “Interesting offer. Did Lovegood send you here?”

“No, the Ministry.”

Draco cracks a smile, then pauses. “Oh, that’s not a joke? Huh,” he purses his lips. “I assume people finally caught on.”

“Yeah, that took a while, sorry. Luna was good at what she did, we’ve been onto her but couldn’t obtain the evidence necessary to build a case. When we did, we had to reverse-engineer the spellwork of her entire, er, system to figure out where each victim was and open a two-way portal. It was tough, she wouldn’t say anything and before we decided to, y’know, make her take Veritaserum and get her memories to put in a Pensive, she put herself in a magically-induced coma.”

“Daring girl,” nods Draco. “I’m not surprised. So, was that why you kept going to La Villa? Did you see her lurking around to try and catch me?”

“No, I was, I’m,” Potter rubs his neck, his hand then falling to the table, a finger rocking against the surface, “we knew she would target you. We decided to get there early and catch her in the act.”

“Didn’t turn out well, did it? Do you know what you did wrong?” Draco leans his elbow on the table. “You should’ve sent someone else. Potter, you’re not the only capable wizard in the Ministry and you’re—look at you—you’re The Man Who Lived. Everybody knew you were there within hours, did you think someone like Luna Lovegood wouldn’t figure it out?”

Potter sniffs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Hermione’s still telling me how stupid I was for volunteering,” he says. “I just, I thought it’d be good to check on you as well. It’s been years. Two birds, one stone.”

“Innovative,” Potter rolls his eyes at Draco’s tone. “You made it too easy, only going three, four times a week. She just had to walk in on one of your off-days and what happened? I turned in my notice and was gone a week later. How did your team take it?”

Potter shakes his head, and Draco bites back a sardonic grin.

“I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on you, Potter, my apologies,” he sips his tea, smoky cardamom making his nose tingle. “I didn’t like her, still don’t,” he raises the hand Billy is hanging on, tapping his temple with his index finger, “but I can say that she’s a different type of intellectual. Because you can’t think like her, from the start, you’ve already lost. I was the perfect candidate, she wouldn’t give up on me just because she had Aurors out her door.”

“Yeah, you fit the type she targeted, no offense,” Potter crosses his ankle over his other knee, palming his chin, “Kinda lost, no aspirations. Tired, don’t seem fulfilled, basically wanting a better future. Those are the people who’d accept a ticket to a different life.”

“A different universe, even,” Draco says.

“Right. Luna’s convinced that dumping people into a whole another reality altogether is the solution to unhappiness and whatnot. I mean, it really wasn’t that much of a surprise, to be honest. She means well, but she’s just that ‘mad scientist' type.”

“I will pretend like I know what that last part means and say ‘aye’.”

Potter’s brows furrow as he tries to figure out how to explain the concept, but Draco cuts in.

“I jest, I jest. It’d be inconvenient if an author doesn’t know what the most basic of terms mean.”

“You’re an,” Potter grips the handle of his chair, leaning away, “you’re lying. An author? Oh, shit, how do you even—the paperwork—identification—”

Draco shrugs. “Lovegood was thorough. She didn’t work alone, I’m sure you already know that. She did the inventing and inviting, her partners dealt with the logistics. They got the paperwork sorted out for me, changed my name to Castor Lambert. Looks great in cursive.

“They also somehow managed to transfer the entirety of my inherited vaults over here and converted them to Muggle money. I was saving them for retirement in case I got to live that long, but I didn’t expect there to be so much in Muggle currency. I’m still shocked, but they said something about the economy and I tuned them out.”

Draco drinks some more tea. “It works, though, so no complaints.”

“Wait, you,” Potter’s eyes narrow, “you’re doing well, then. Here.”

“Quite. You haven’t met my neighbors yet, but they’re lovely. I got these bowls from them,” Draco raps a knuckle on his bowl. “To be frank, I think you should just let Lovegood be. She delivered what she promised, and I’m still sitting here, alive and kicking.”

Potter uncrosses his legs and stands up so quickly his chair almost knocks over. He paces back and forth, scratching at his stubbles and pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s a bit crooked to the right, and for a moment, Draco can feel the crunch of cartilage and bone beneath his sole. He exhales. The memory evaporates.

“What she’s doing, it’s against the law,” Potter wrenches out, heavy boots making the flooring creak and groan. “Don’t you get it? Faking documents, unlicensed invention and charmwork, extremely dangerous invention and charmwork, meddling with cosmic magic, practically kidnapping people and sending them away with no way back. You know she’s probably doing this because she wants to use you as a test subject for her, I don’t know, transgalactic experiments, right? Everything could’ve gone to shite. How are you supposed to return if I’m not here?!”

“I don’t know,” Draco lightly bounces Little Billy into the air. He floats down like a parachute, “since I’ll never try.”

Potter stops. “What?”

“I’m not going back,” Draco says. “Look, regardless of her intentions, it’s not like Luna just dropped me off blind without preparation. I mean,” he rolls Billy over on his palm and scritches the soft underbelly, “I certainly didn’t know that the line between the Wizarding and Muggle world is so thin here, to the point where these sugar gliders are living right outside people’s homes. But again, nothing I can’t handle. If I have to rate, it’s five over five for customer service.”

“You—you,” Potter gestures at poor, innocent Billy, “you can’t stay here just to play with some fucking flying squirrels. What about the Draco Malfoy of this universe? What if the War is still going on and they find you?”

“For Merlin’s sake, sit down. What’s gotten into you?”

That doesn’t seem to help with Potter’s mood at all, nor does it make him sit down. Draco sighs.

“The War is over here and this village is so obscure, it probably doesn’t even show up on a map. And let’s say somebody wants to find me. Would they even consider the notion that Draco Malfoy’s doppelganger is a children’s book author named Castor Lambert who writes under the pseudonym ‘Robert BoBee’ and—and talks to ‘flying squirrels’?”

Potter blinks, his shoulders loosening just a tad. “You write children’s books?”

“Yes, fairy tales. I’m not famous, but, you know, I wrote them,” Draco smiles, a bit flushed at the thought of his works. He’s not showing his face at the library next week, though his illustrator will. Her art is gorgeous and she’ll teach the kids how to draw the characters.

“Oh.”

In the momentary hush, Potter’s watch lets out a succession of beeps. Both men stare at it.

“You can’t do this,” Potter says after pressing some buttons on it. “Malfoy, you can’t—don’t you have loved ones, unresolved businesses, problems, back in our world?”

“You forget, Lovegood targeted those with nothing left to lose,” Draco says. “The only problem I had was paying rent, and there’s no loved one to miss me.”

“Do you really think so?” Potter’s jaw clenches. From here, Draco can see a vein trailing down his arm, his fist tight. “What about me?”

“What about you?”

Draco is genuinely confused.

“You, I,” Potter says, hard lines on his face. It’s like the words are strangling him. “Does what we had mean nothing to you?”

Draco sorts through the events that happened, then it dawns on him.

“That,” he shakes his head, “goodness, that was so long ago. It’s been, what, five years?”

“Fifteen. Nearly, not really,” Potter says. “Fourteen and some months. You missed Hogwarts’s ten-year reunion.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing. Who would want to see my Death Eater face at the reunion?”

“Ex-Death Eater.”

“Okay, sure, ex-Death Eater face. Who, except you?”

Potter stays quiet. His jacket moves a bit with the gentle wind, and if he still has that mane of hair, it would fall into his eyes, unprotected without glasses. Draco’s eyes widen. Potter isn’t wearing his round glasses. He’s not wearing glasses, period. When did he stop? Has it really been that long?

Potter opens his mouth. “Is it because I couldn’t get you out of Azkaban?”

“I may be a bit absentminded these days, but I remember this,” Potter looks like he’s hearing Draco list out his crimes. “That savior complex of yours, always taking the blame. No, it’s not. There’s nothing that could keep me from serving my sentence. I can barely remember your testimony, let alone resent you for it.”

“Then, if you don’t hate me,” Potter lifts his head, peering into Draco’s eyes, “would it be so bad to go back with me?”

“Potter,” Draco stands up. “Harry.”

It only takes a few steps, a few heartbeats, to reach Potter. With Little Billy tucked on his shoulder, his hands are free to touch one of Potter’s and lift it to the space between them. Potter’s thumb is tucked into his fist, the other four fingers squeezing it anxiously. Draco sneaks his own fingers in, loosening Potter’s grip until his hand is open and relaxed. As it should always be.

“It’s been so long ago,” Draco breathes. The pad of his finger grazes across the lines and wrinkles on Potter’s palm, bumpy with calluses and etched with scars. “The ‘me’ of today, in this universe, is not the ‘me’ you were interested in back in ‘99.”

The thick fingers beneath Draco’s curl slowly, thereby holding Draco’s own, Potter’s thumb stroking just past the first knuckles.

“I wasn’t just ‘interested’ in you back in ‘99. I’m not just ‘interested’ in you now, either.”

Draco doesn’t have a reply to that. Potter seems to know this. His eyes close with force, his serious expression distorted with emotion. The hand not being held falls back to Draco’s side as he watches Potter’s head bow, face twisted. Contrary to his expectations—he doesn’t quite know what to expect anyway—Potter rolls Draco’s glove off and turns his hand over. Softly, a kiss is placed upon Draco’s bare palm.

Between lingering lips and the cradle of Potter’s hand, Draco feels warmer than he’s ever been. Potter shifts his face away, far enough for his other hand to close Draco’s fingers on the kiss, like he’s given Draco a treasure to keep. Cupping the back of Draco’s hand, Potter raises it to his lips once more, the spark of heat now spreading from Draco’s knuckles instead of his palm.

“Out of all things,” a gravelly whisper pressed against skin, “why can’t I keep you?”

Like before, Draco has nothing to say. What kind of answer can he give that is the balm Potter needs?

And it’s only now that he registers the sound. Potter’s watch has gotten more aggressive, its quick beeps escalating into one long drone. Draco takes a step back, then another, barely exerting any effort at all to pull his hand away. Potter blinks slowly as if roused from a deep sleep. When he looks up, Draco is seated on his wicker chair. He takes a sip from his tea, now cold and has scarcely any flavor left.

He can pinpoint the moment when Potter hears the beeping. He doesn’t turn it off, doesn’t even check it. Just looks at Draco.

It’s for the best.

Draco clears his throat and makes himself comfortable.

“Perhaps in another universe, I’ll take your hand, Potter,” he says, folding his legs onto the chair. Billy falls onto his lap with a squeak. “For now, little Billy and I are quite content where we’re at.”

The severe edges on Potter have faded. Left behind is a handsome face, astonishing in its clarity. Taking in laugh lines and crow’s feet at the corner of lush-green eyes, Draco knows it’s the face of joy and love and being loved. That face doesn’t belong in this lonely village and this lonely cottage. Potter belongs in his own world.

“Perhaps in another universe?” Potter says. His arms are straight by his sides, his face blank.

“Perhaps,” Draco echoes. “Your watch is beeping.”

“Oh, it’s,” Potter stares at his wrist. It’s a long, long stretch of time before: “I guess this is it.”

Draco nods.

“Indeed it is. Have a nice trip, see you never,” he waves, a jovial smile on his lips. He only holds it for a few seconds. His cheeks hurt nonetheless.

Potter looks at Draco, and looks, and looks even as his legs have become transparent. Then his hip, then torso, then chest. The watch keeps on beeping.

It takes not even twenty seconds.

Potter opens his mouth when it’s too late. In a gust of wind, he no longer exists.

There one moment, gone the next. Draco sits there and stares at the spot once occupied by a warm body amidst the chill of spring.

“Perhaps in another universe,” he murmurs, resting an overheated hand over Little Billy’s back.

OoO

In another universe, Potter doesn’t come to find him at all.

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

THIS! This had me giggling and blushing wildly in the middle of the café <3<3<3

Omg omg I have a prompt ! Draco got Harry's number but (because he's shy, because he's afraid of rejection) he doesn't tell him he's him, and after a while Harry is going insane because Derek sounds amazing (although he's somehow never available to go out on a date) but Draco is so fucking hot

(Is a long one sentence prompt an acceptable loophole? 😅 can't wait to see what you can come up with (if you choose to write it))

Have a good day !

(lol what a loophole 😂)

*

Hey. U up?

Yes, good morning :)

How did dinner with ur folks go?

Oh, it was a nightmare, as expected. How was your Sunday evening?

Lonely without u

Don't make a man blush this early in the day.

Do u blush easily?

I guess so. I'm very pale.

I bet u look pretty when u blush

I bet you say that to all the boys.

Harry surveyed the canteen another time, sighing when the bright head he was looking for remained absent. He looked back at his phone, cursor blinking as he tried to decide what to reply with.

I wish I could see u blush

Oh no, don't start.

Wat?? I just want to meet for coffee or something

Oh, Harry. I'd be such a disappointment.

I doubt that

Harry waited but Derek didn't text back immediately. He looked around the canteen, ignoring his half eaten omelette and sipping his coffee instead. Then, his heart cartwheeling wildly, he saw Malfoy walk in, cloak over one arm, briefcase in one hand, his hair blinding in its pale brightness.

He was always so polished and beautiful, Malfoy. His clothes were perfectly tailored and ironed, tie knotted with military precision, shoes highly polished. Harry felt like everything Aunt Marge ever labelled him in comparison to Malfoy. Stupid posh git.

Stupid posh git who was just so fucking hot.

Harry ducked his head, sliding low in his chair, when Malfoy picked up a plate, joined the short queue at the breakfast buffet and looked around as he waited. Harry stayed slouched out of sight until Malfoy had served himself some sliced fruit and toast before finding a table on the other side of the pillar Harry was half hidden behind.

As Harry straightened up, his phone buzzed.

You're worth someone...perfect. Because that's what you are.

Harry's fingers fumbled as he punched out a reply with his thumbs, his belly fluttering.

U cant stay stuf like that ubless ur gona meet me so I can show u how much u mean to me

I know, I shouldn't lead you on. I'm sorry. I just like you too much and I wish I was brave enough to take this to the next level.

I promise u wont regret it

I know I won't but you will.

I wont!

Harry... You won't like me.

I doubt that

I mean it. I'm not what you're looking for.

I don't know wat I'm looking for

You don't have a type?

Harry looked at the pillar as if he could see Malfoy through it and bit his lip. If only he had the balls to walk up to him and just ask him out like he'd been dying to for almost two years, he could stop begging Derek to meet him like some sort of desperate freak.

Harry looked at his phone, sighing. He recalled the drawled conversation he had overhead Malfoy having with a coworker in the tea room and the way Harry had hurried out so he wouldn't be caught laughing madly.

I like...gits who challenge me. And make me laugh. U do that

What else?

Fuck. I like them pale and mouthy with an arse I could kill for but he is so fucking beyond my league, Harry wanted to bellow.

I don't know. I just wish we could meet

I know. Me too.

Harry sighed again and pushed away from the table, picking up his tray and turning to go dump it into the slot on the other side of the room. Belatedly remembering that Malfoy sat on the other side of the pillar (looking fancy and unattainable) Harry detoured by walking into the balcony that ran along the back of the room, connecting to the canteen through several open doorways.

Harry walked all the way to the other end of the room, deposited his tray and then doubled backed through the balcony again, pausing to peer into the canteen through the window that was directly behind Malfoy...

...who was bent over a Muggle cell phone he held under the table.

Harry's mouth dropped open. Even Hermione hadn't agreed to get a cell phone but Malfoy had one?!

Unable to resist, Harry slipped inside and crept up to Malfoy, turning over cleverly phrased greetings in his mind.

Malfoy's knee was bouncing restlessly and he was holding the phone so tightly that his knuckles bulged. Harry stopped and fidgeted for a second, glancing at the screen once more.

And then almost had a heart attack.

Across the top of the screen was the name of the person Malfoy was texting, clear as day, the font large and square:

"Harry <3"

and beneath that, the long exchange of familiar looking text messages.

Harry's breath suddenly whooshed out of him so loudly that Malfoy heard it and turned, frowning in bewilderment.

Harry and he blinked at each other for a moment. Then,

"Derek?"

*

(Send me a one-sentence prompt for drarry and I'll do my best!)

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

Just a friendly reminder: some people reach their sexual peak at 30..

Lol a mom and in your 30s? What're u doing writing smut?

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

Is it just me or did the w o n d e r f u l TOOBK by over-the-top talented @lou-isfake send you into a Coldplay frenzy? Like, I have Parachutes on repeat and I'm never ever going to listen to Green eyes the same way again <3 <3 <3

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

hi! sorry if you reced this already but do you know any fics with older drarry? like when they're in their late 30s-40s-50s or even older :) thank you for all that you do!

Hi anon, thank you! Love this trope, I’ve read a few amazing fics and I’m ready to read more! Hope you like these. I also suggest checking the HP Golden Age archive!

Won't You Stay By My Side by @gracerene09 (2015, E, 2k)

Harry needs to convince Draco that he is too old to continue his dangerous job as an Investigative Journalist.

Love Me Right by @unmistakablyoatmeal (2018, E, 3k)

They’re far too old to be mucking about with secret relationships, but neither of them feel like dealing with their families reactions, and frankly, the sneaking around is kind of hot.

Grounding Harry by @nerdherderette (2018, M, 4.5k)

Harry’s in his fifties, and it’s looking like it’s time to retire from professional Quidditch. Draco sets out to remind Harry that he will always be a star in his eyes.

Where you go, I follow. by @digthewriter (2020, G, 6k)

Rivals in their thirties and friends in their fifties— what does turning 60 have in store for these two wizards?

Tonight’s the Night (Gonna Be Alright) by @pineau-noir (2020, E, 9k)

Sex is hard to come by when you're 40 and have kids.

Night Changes by @writcraft (2017, E, 10k)

Draco and Harry have spent years dancing around one another, but Potter’s straight and married. Until one day he isn’t.

The Weight of a Wanting Heart by @femmequixotic (2014, E, 12k)

After nearly two decades hidden away in the Wiltshire countryside, Draco Malfoy’s surprised to see a familiar face come into his local.

Once Upon A Time, Yesterday by Femme (2009, E, 22k)

“You've always been obsessed with Malfoy, Harry. That should probably tell you something."

No Fury by Meri (2010, E, 24k)

After years of avoiding Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter is forced into a situation where he can't anymore.

The Sinner’s Redemption by oldenuf2nb (2019, E, 55k)

When Headmaster, Harry Potter, loses his Potions Professor - is he willing to fight the system to employ the one person he knows will excel in the position?

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (2018, E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter.

By the Grace by @letteredlettered (2020, T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Turn!verse by Saras_Girl (2013, E, 315k)

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

hi! love your blog btw! also i was wondering if you know any fics where harry rejects draco’s feelings but draco is still determined to love him or smth like that 🥺

Hi anon! Absolutely, I can’t recommend these fics enough - except for #2 they all have happy endings :)

Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (2019, E, 5.2k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Closure is a state of mind by @quicksilvermaid (2020, E, 12k) - Harry/Charlie

After Harry's husband Charlie is killed, his Mind Healer recommends a Polyjuice therapy company, so Harry can see 'Charlie' again and find closure over his death.

Ship of Theseus by GallaPlacidia (2020, T, 18k)

When Harry gets amnesia and forgets he and Draco were ever married, he refuses treatment to remember.

In His Nature by create_serenity (2015, M, 20k)

Harry agreed to have sex with Draco once a month in order to keep him alive, what he didn’t agree to was Draco popping up all over the place and disrupting his life in more ways than one.

you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass (2018, M, 20k)

When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.

Blueprints for a Dream by Frayach (2013, E, 24k)

Harry breaks Draco’s heart, but that doesn’t mean Draco’s going to let him go without a fight.

Tuxedo Angel by tryslora (2013, E, 25k)

Harry and Neville are looking for the infamous Dragon Lily, a Dark witch active throughout Europe and Asia. Instead, they find the Tuxedo Angel, a beautiful witch performing in Rome.

Your Place or Mine? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (2016, E, 26k)

“This person is so much harder to hate. And I’m supposed to hate Malfoy. How the fuck else am I supposed to limit this to just sex?"

Glory Be by Lomonaaeren (2013, E, 32k)

Draco—Draco Malfoy, skilled assassin, powerful and wealthy Veela, former Death Eater—has always known what to do, where to go, who to kill. And then Harry Potter came along.

The Bucket List by GallaPlacidia (2020, NR, 32k)

Draco will die in six months if he can't get Harry Potter to fall in love with him. Since that's not going to happen, he might as well spend his last days working through his Bucket List.

The Thrill of the Chase Moves in Mysterious Ways by @veelawings (2020, E, 32k)

Draco solves crimes that don’t technically belong to him and Harry tries not to fall in love. Co-Starring: Hermione, High Heels, and Hiccups along the way. #dat 1920s lyfe

All Roads by korlaena, Saulaie (2019, M, 36k)

Draco hates his job at the Prophet. He hates it even more when he’s assigned to write an article on Harry Potter, who left the country three years ago after their falling out.

A Hag, a Hex, a Tale of Redemption by @aibidil (2018, E, 43k)

A fuck-or-die fairytale in which Draco Malfoy lives a despicable and unapologetic life — that is, until he's cursed to die unless he can fall in love with and fuck Harry Potter.

Of Fates Entwined: A Story of Love Lost and Found by taradiane (2014, E, 51k)

Harry Potter vanished without a trace from his home on a warm summer morning in June 2004. This is the story of how a random visit in a cafe on the other side of the world, six years later, proved that the ties which entwine our fates together can never be broken.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by @letteredlettered (2012, E, 54k)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Harry Potter Gives a Shit by talithan (2013, E, 58k)

“Where are you headed?” “No place special,” Draco fumbled, and flushed further. But then: “I can change that,” said Harry Potter.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (2018, E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

Turning Leaves by Kbrick (2021, E, 112k) - haven’t read this one, but it fits perfectly!

Draco and Harry have a one-night stand that ends in disaster after Harry tells Draco he's unable to move beyond their poisonous past. So when Draco finds an unusual Time-Turner in the Department of Mysteries, he seizes the opportunity to start fresh with Harry.

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop (2016, E, 113k)

Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him.

By the Grace by @letteredlettered (2020, T, 139k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

I love when Draco gets to be the BAMF. Any recs for Powerful!Draco? Tag search has been hit and miss. Morally ambiguous is always welcome too.

Hi friend! Ohh love myself some BAMF Draco, that’s a great trope. I feel like most of the times he gets to be badass without necessarily being as powerfully unhinged as Harry, so I tried to include both takes here - hope that’s alright! Enjoy :)

The Slytherin Urn by @icmezzo (2015, E, 4.6k)

Nothing turns Harry on quite like redemption.

Sex on Legs in Six-Inch Heels by Tessa Crowley (2017, E, 10k)

Draco Malfoy is a brilliant freelance cursebreaker and the only one who can help the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a very dangerous case, but more importantly, he's wearing six-inch heels, and Harry cannot handle it, he really just can't.

Countdown by dysonrules (2013, M, 14k)

When the Wizarding world is plagued by random outbreaks of Dark Magic, the Ministry assigns Curse-Breakers to assist Auror teams on their missions.

you look so fine by michi_thekiller (2013, E, 16k)

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate. Dark!Humor or Crack!Horror, you decide.

Burn the Curtains and the Wine by @nerdherderette (2019, E, 24k)

There are two versions of Harry Potter: the wizard who is the Ministry of Magic's most dangerous and successful assassin, and the husband who leads a staid life of domesticity with a reformed Death Eater. And never the twain shall meet.

Glory Be by Lomonaaeren (2013, E, 32k)

Draco Malfoy, skilled assassin, powerful and wealthy Veela, former Death Eater—has always known what to do, where to go, who to kill. And then Harry Potter came along: Harry Potter, Unspeakable, former Auror, the most powerful wizard Draco has ever seen.

measures of our days and nights by flimsy (2012, E, 40k)

Draco returns to London to help the Ministry decipher a spell, but things aren’t quite as simple as they seem.

Take the Air by dysonrules (2018, M, 51k)

Someone or something is attacking Muggles and leaving them for dead. Auror Harry Potter is assigned to the case, but with his usual partner unavailable, he is stuck with the most annoying Auror ever to walk the halls of the Ministry.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by @letteredlettered (2012, E, 54k)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Crown Witness by @slytherco (2020, E, 70k)

When Harry Potter goes to interrogate a potential witness, he doesn’t expect to end up on the run again, trying to keep Draco Malfoy alive, while a manhunt follows in their footsteps, adamant on eliminating the one witness that could ruin everything.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (2019, E, 99k)

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise?

Chaos Theory by Tessa Crowley (2017, E, 102k)

Chaos: when the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (2015, E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by @firethesound (2014, E, 150k)

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

So much fun! This is me :)

Picrew!

So I made one that resembles me from NO angle lol I certainly don't have purple eyes and blonde hair but 🤷🏻

Do it do it do it make one! 💕

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

Daco at nineteen is EVERYTHING <3

liv i hope you’re doing well :) thank you for everything that you do for this fandom oh what would we do without you! i was wondering if you knew of any first time fics? like really sweet and tender first kisses or first times having sex? if not that’s totally okay! thank you 🥺

Hi anon, thanks so much for the sweet words! I definitely know some fics with wholesome first times. Most of these are personal all-time faves and I hope you like them as much as I do! I also did a PWP reclist for this trope, although they’re not all necessarily soft & sweet so make sure to check the tags :)

Draco at Nineteen by birdsofshore (2015, E, 5k)

It's the middle of the night and Harry Potter is sitting on my bed looking distinctly weird. I've had some fucked-up dreams in my time, but this one... this one is something new.

Slip Into My Lover's Hands by @lqtraintracks (2015, E, 6k)

Draco licks his lips. He shuts his eyes, because he doesn't think he can look at Potter when he says it. When he asks for it. "One finger?"

Speak (and may the world come undone) by @shealwaysreads (2020, E, 26k)

The war is on in earnest, and the hunt for the Horcruxes has begun. Harry receives help from the least expected person, and must decide whether he can trust the enemy he knows best. A story of grey-tinged loyalty, the silver of trust in the darkness, the agony of courage, the unexpected richness of secrets, and the vast unknown of survival.

Strange Bathfellows by @bixgirl1 (2017, E, 27k)

It started with a bath. Or a potions accident. Or maybe it started before that, but who can tell anymore.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (2018, M, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Waiting By An Open Door by @femmequixotic and @noeeon (2017, E, 29k)

Draco starts following Potterwatch secretly during the War. He wishes Potter would come save him too. But that sort of thing only happens in fairy tales, and Malfoys don't get fairy tale endings, do they?

Embers by @shiftylinguini (2017, E, 41k)

Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice. Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter.

Another Heart Whispers Back by @slytherco (2020, E, 53k)

At twenty-five, Harry Potter is still a virgin and sorely lacking in options to change that state anytime soon. To help him find a plus one for Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and maybe kill two birds with one stone, Harry’s friends set him up on a series of blind dates. The only problem is, there’s something not quite right with each of their candidates.

Helix by Saras_Girl (2015, E, 92k)

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (2020, E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (2015, E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

[jusquici-tout-va-drarry]

This! <3

Do you know any Pinning Draco with Oblivious Harry fics? I love them so much kshjshkjdch Thank you so much! <3

Hi anon! Gosh there are so many pining Draco fics out there it was difficult to keep this short, but I’m going for some of my faves + fics that could definitely use more mentions/love in my humble opinion. Some of them are told from Harry’s oblivious perspective but I promise Draco’s pining a lot on the other side lol

Clear As Mud by scoradh (2005, M, 10k) - Harry’s POV, also pining Harry

Set post-war and post-Harry's-conscience...

fine i'll hold my breath / til i forget it's complicated by teatrolley (2015, M, 11k) - Harry’s POV, also pining Harry

Harry and Draco become friends with benefits, and Harry thinks it's more complicated than it actually is.

Plan Alphabet by @xx-thedarklord-xx (2019, T, 14k)

After realizing that his feelings for Harry were unfortunately real, Draco embarks on a foolproof—yes, Longbottom, foolproof—plan to woo Potter. 

Whoo Knew? by @oceaxe-ifdawn (2016, E, 18k)

Despite having had a crush on his Auror partner for years, Draco's been biding his time and waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his case. 

The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by @cibeewastaken (2020, T, 19k)

Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. 

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (2016, E, 19k)

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

The Green Vial by @eidheann (2015, E, 31k)

After months of seeing Harry Potter walk into his Apothecary disappointed and hopeless, Draco offers to carry the baby that Harry can't. 

Another Heart Whispers Back by @slytherco (2020, E, 53k)

At twenty-five, Harry Potter is still a virgin and sorely lacking in options to change that state anytime soon. 

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (2020, E, 61k) - Harry’s POV, also pining Harry

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Criminal by @the-sinking-ship (2020, E, 83k)

Draco is stuck in England under Auror Potter’s guard with no friends, no distractions, and no escape. How the hell will he pass the time? And since when did Potter get so bloody fit?

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop (2016, E, 113k)

Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by @firethesound (2014, E, 150k)

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.