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firendgold · 1 year

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Pk now I want to hear tour rant about how Harrydore is bettter than Grindeldore. Bring it 🤣❤️

ohhh, this one's easy. I've been in this fandom on and off since 2006, and seen how Harry, Albus and Gellert were written pre- and post-'Dumbledore closet interview'. cracks knuckles

got to hit you with that readmore though. and it's going to be in two parts. I rambled again. ^^

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(...'rambled' is perhaps an understatement.)

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grindeldore vs harrydore

grindeldore

the tl;dr of the below is the following sentences, and then I'll get into it. My philosophy on gr*ndeld*re extends to all other ships in all other fandoms, especially HP: if it's not an AU and you have to excessively mischaracterize Character A to get them to 'fit' with Character B, then it's not a good ship, canon or not. Albus Dumbledore is quite often mischaracterized in order to 'fit' or 'keep' him with Gellert Grindelwald.

here's my problems with how gr*ndeld*re is most often portrayed:

Inconsistency within canon. JKR is partly mostly to blame for this (because she has contradicted her original 2007 statement in the present day with more interviews in the 2010s and with the Fantastic Beasts movies), but the first problem is: gr*ndeld*re was originally an unrequited ship. The original statement was that Albus was dazzled by Gellert's power, his presence, their similarities, their shared ideals... but That Woman wasn't explicit on whether Gellert ever returned his feelings. But based on her quotes where she says "falling in love can blind you to an extent" and that [Dumbledore] was "terribly, terribly let down" by the result of that whirlwind relationship, I think it's safe to assume that her original idea of Gellert cared far more for seeing his grander plans realized than for the needs and feelings of his 'equal'. And yet... in fandom, they are most often portrayed instead as star-crossed lovers torn apart by 'conflicting ideals'.

The second problem is that in the avalanche of fics and art that have come from The Reveal, the original lesson (/moral...?) behind the reveal of gr*ndeld*re, and how it shaped Albus as an adult, leader, and progressive, just... got lost. Completely lost. The whole point of it was to show that even Albus (supposed 'paragon of goodness' until book 7 showed the fandom that he is a regular human being) can make 'relatable' mistakes like... you know... being friends with a fascist. Being in love with a fascist, even. Thanks to said retcon interviews and the new movies (and even before that tbh) the fandom has since: overexaggerated Albus' new clay feet to the point of bashing him, idolized Grindelwald's red flag traits and ideals to the point where he has become the new "Tom Riddle was just misunderstood!" guy, and twisted that lesson/moral/whatever to mean that actually Albus and Gellert were tragically kept away from each other by an itsy bitsy little difference of opinion. A minor little fight. Casual death of your sick sister. Haven't we all been there?

The fandom diminishing the real reasons why Albus and Gellert eventually clashed, were destined to clash, is bad enough. What's worse is the opposite end. Some Dumbledore-bashing fans go the other way and paint present-day Dumbledore with the same brush as Grindelwald, even going so far as to say he still supports The Greater Good even though his entire character is literally built on being the opposite of the pro-magic, anti-Muggle philosophy. Albus has also been painted in some fics and even meta discussions as someone who 'regrets' his past not because his sister died and his brother is estranged from him, but just because his ex-boyfriend is in prison and he maybe kind of regrets not going full fascist with him. Like... bruh. NO. There are people who ship gr*ndeld*re just because they feel like Grindelwald, the worst dark wizard in the world, the reason why Voldemort is only a minor league little lord in comparison, is an appropriate "punishment" for the character they already dislike and thus misinterpret. (Side note: I'm not sure if I'm in a worse hell watching Albus' character get whitewashed for fascism or demonized so he can be a miserable lonely gay.)

Albus diminishes himself to meet Gellert's needs. An in-universe problem this time instead of a meta/RL one: Albus and Gellert were lovers, yes, but in order to be so, Albus had to actively start neglecting his siblings (since in Aberforth's words he was 'doing all right' taking care of them before Gellert showed up) and leaning more into anti-Muggle sentiment. He put all his energy into what for most of the magical world was a wild goose chase after some fairy-tale items. (Remember, most wixen don't give a shit about the Deathly Hallows, or think they're even real.) He became the person Gellert needed/desired most. Albus became a version of himself that he despised later in his life and after his death.

Relationships often include the members changing, and it's easy for even the most devoted partners to fall out of love if they change and are now too different from one another, or one person changes and the other... doesn't. After Ariana died, Albus chose to become a different person and champion the same people he and his family once despised. He chose to stay away from Gellert, whether he called it cowardice or principles or whatever else. And his choice put him in conflict with Gellert, who at sixteen refused to change course or rethink his ideals even when his choices led to the death of a magical person (the type of person he supposedly prizes above all others). His magical boyfriend's magical sister, even. And we see no sign that Gellert changed, repented, or considered Albus until decades later, at the very end of his life—far too late.

Healthy relationships require give-and-take, sacrificing for your partner in things big and small. For high-stakes relationships like Albus and Gellert's (queer in the 1800s, sweet Merlin), that is even more true. During that steamy summer of 1899, it was Albus who did all the sacrifcing/giving and Gellert who did all the taking. Gellert may have entertained the idea of bringing Ariana along on his quest with Albus (we don't know), but Aberforth was right to say that it would have been torture for her—and no alternate idea was brought up that would prioritize the wellbeing of Albus' siblings while he was away. And in the moment of required reciprocity when Albus was at his lowest, Gellert left him behind and went off to go rule the world. Not even the most diehard shipper can argue against the fact that when Ariana died, Grindelwald left.

This problem is even more personal/biased than the other ones. Albus and Gellert parted ways in 1899. They didn't see each other again until the duel in 1945 (because fuck Fantastic Beasts, the scripts don't even make fucking sense). Albus defeated Gellert, put him in prison, and then went on living for another fifty-two years. And That Woman expects me to believe that Albus never had a relationship with anyone before Gellert, and never even looked at another wizard afterward? In 52 years, he was one-and-done? He never once fell in love with other people, whether or not he fully trusted them/let them in? Be serious. Pull the other one. It's not realistic, and it doesn't speak to the kind of man Albus Dumbledore is. He may not have found a man to check the same boxes Gellert did, but he wouldn't arguably be looking for someone too similar to his old flame. He might not trust them unconditionally or be the Perfect Partner for them (bc whew traumaaa), but there would be other people for Albus in a realistic Magical Britain (even discounting time travel shenanigans). Before the reveal, the most popular people to ship Albus with were Minerva, Alastor, and Elphias Doge; these options are still arguably more valid. Albus Dumbledore loves love, he champions love, and he doesn't think he deserves it after his sins, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't go looking. It's mind-boggling to me that with all the well-deserved disavowing of JKR following her anti-trans hate (and her shameless pandering to the same people calling her a witch poisoning their children's minds decades ago), that some people still treat her words about Albus and Gellert's relationship and its effects on Albus in particular as gospel. I sure don't. (Especially because she said he became "asexual" after His One Gay Experience when like. That's not. What asexuality is??? And ace gay people exist???) Whether you count the FB movies or not, there are still decades of Albus' life that are a mystery, and I refuse to believe he closed his heart and caged his dick for all of them.

IMPORTANT END NOTE: These observations obviously do not apply to all gr*ndeld*re shippers. Some people genuinely do like both characters, characterize them correctly, and still want to see them together for reasons. I'm not going to judge them. I ship a frigging time travel age gap ship, how the fuck could I. And I'm also aware that a lot of fics/art are made to color in between the lines of what we don't know in the fandom, bringing Albus and Gellert together during the mystery years, or making one wizard better for the other to address all the ship baggage. I just can't join them because of how rarely that occurs (and, admittedly, how much I personally can't see it). You would not believe how many fics and discussions I've seen that lionize Grindelwald and treat Dumbledore like an accessory, or completely mischaracterize Albus' motivations, intentions, and actions, and then put him with "the other Big Bad". UGH.

Most of the time, I see gr*ndeld*re the ship hurting Albus the individual. It's very rare to find an iteration where Albus is not bearing the consequences of Gellert's choices, Gellert's actions, Gellert's mistakes and harm done. I think Albus deserves better than to be Gellert's accessory just because he loved him deeply long ago.

okay. whew. that was a lot.

a character limit prevents me from continuing here, so the second half of this versus will go elsewhere, sorry!

#fireandgold #fireandgoldposts #kazuza-art #thanks for the ask!#tried to make it *non*-bashing but... eh I just really don't like most iterations of That Ship #I also put 'relatable' in quotes bc as a POC I simply could never be knowingly connected to a fascist. couldn't be me #it's WORSE bc Albus' mum is implied to be Native American and he just hooks up with wizard HITLER I cannot... I just can't...#granted. I have read really really good grindeldore fics. I just could never ship it/write a fic for them myself. perhaps it's my flaw lol #I tried to censor the name as often as possible so sorry if it ends up in the other tag #time travel harrydore #harrydore #dumbledore meta #potter meta #why not grindelwald #<- that tag is for later #...I have to split this post in half. damn you tumblr ''character limit''

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drarrylovebot-blog · 7 years

Text

Conjoined. Connected. Intertwined. (Part 2)

For @alphacentxuri

Here is Part I

WARNING: CONTAINS SUICIDE ATTEMPT.

Harry gets his arse on his bike the next morning, right after he bid adieu with McGonagall, who actually smiles and packs him lots of food for his journey, encouraging him –which sounds a lot like a threat- to find the lucky person. Only then Harry can finally does what he wants to do, he jumps start his bike and flies as quickly as he can to this unknown destination, blindly following the compass in his arm while making sure he doesn’t fly too low to the ground.

He spends three days on and off air, sometimes stopping to refill his food, to clean himself in a random gas station, and actually ride his motorcycle on the ground before he lose his sense of staying on steady ground. After three days, he finally arrives in France, and he knows that this the country he needs to visit as something deep inside his core pulse slightly, probably noticing the shorter distance Harry has made between him and his soulmate. So, once again Harry speeds up with the guide of his compass and the odd pulse thudding inside him. He was leisurely enjoying the magnificent view of late night Paris from up above the sky, the Eiffel Tower is beautiful at night, projecting all the twinkling lights in a far distance, trying it’s best to not overpower all the scattered blinking lights from the street and the warm houses. Harry has never been to Paris before, and now he can actually witness the beauty one of his colleagues from his Auror days has talked about. The city of light is peacefully alive down there, and Harry is somehow sure that the person he has been searching for is inside one of those warm houses, probably dozing the night off, escaping the harsh reality of their life. Harry doesn’t want to disturb that little piece of peace in someone’s life even though he can feel that he’s so close –so, so very close.

Harry is not up to sleep, he doesn’t think he can sleep tonight with him being so close to the person he has been dreaming of for the past year. The excitement that runs in his vein and the cool night air are keeping him awake up high where’s he’s sitting in the edge of the Eiffel Tower, feet dangling without any support, and eyes trained to the city that is being laid out in front of him. He wonders what kind of person that his soulmate will be, whether they will be a she or a he. He wonders about how to actually meet the person, how to start a conversation with them because of course he can’t just shows up out of nowhere declaring his love for the person. That’s rude and just simply creepy. He wonders about Hermione’s speech, what if the person already has someone in their life? What will he do then? And does this other person knows that they have a soulmate that is currently searching for them? Do they know that they have been sharing their pain with Harry, or whether Harry’s pain can also be felt by the other person? Does this bond go both ways? Harry might not know the answers to all of his questions, but he hopes the other person can welcome him into their life, because this is the first time Harry has ever dive toward something uncertain with a grin in his face, for once he’s delightful to discover something in his life that includes his soul at stake. And he hopes this one doesn’t shatter him, because the last time he put his soul at stake, he died –literally.

The sun has finally come up when Harry is walking down the street with rows and rows of apartment. He has left his bike in one of the motels he passed before. With a cup of take away coffee in his hand, he walks down the street, once again following his compass. After what feels like hours, his compass finally moves a little bit, the pointer is firmly pointing on a house across the street. Harry tries to take a step forward and then two steps backward, it only follows the direction of the house, so Harry lets himself finally smile with relieve. I found you. Merlin, I actually found you.

Harry is so busy thinking on how to actually approach this situation –whether he’ll walk across the street and just rings the bell, whether he’ll wait for the owner to come out of their house and just improvise?- that he almost did not notice the slight change in his stomach. The detached feelings have finally vanished, which makes Harry smiles with relief, but it transforms into something more unsettling that Harry’s feet are already moving by themselves. He’s crossing the street instinctively, a hundred percent being driven by his fear that he loses all his logical thinking –because now he recognizes the feeling. It’s a feeling of defeat acceptance, and Harry has felt it once, right before he took his final step into the clearing inside the Forbidden Forest, right before he looked up to see Voldemort’s eyes, but instead he came face to face with the red eyes of death himself, killing him in one swift green light.

So yeah, all logic fled from his mind, and he is crossing the street in panic, basically committing a breaking and trespassing of someone’s property because he won’t accept the idea that conjures inside his mind. No, he blank point refuses to believe that his soulmate is having enough with life the day Harry finally arrived in front of their door. He’s running frantically inside the house –which is oddly very neat, following his compass, and simply barging inside the room at which his compass points for him. Bathroom, he’s in a bathroom with big tub filled with water to the brink, some even spilling to the marble floor. That’s until he realizes there’s someone inside the tub, someone who horrifically not moving and not making any bubbles in the water as an indication of whether or not they’re breathing. Fuck. He runs to the tub, tripping on his own feet once, before with strong steady hands pulling the person out of the tub. Blond wet strand filled Harry’s view and in an instance Harry can recognizes the owner. Fuck.

Draco Malfoy feels light and cold in his arm, which makes Harry frowns, he’s not supposed to be this light, but he lets it go for awhile because right now Malfoy is light, cold, wet, and definitely not breathing. Harry is on the verge of panicking with all the information that is assaulting his brain. Malfoy is his soulmate, Malfoy was in constant pain, Malfoy was happy for awhile, Malfoy suddenly got cold and distant, Malfoy gave up on his life, Malfoy was committing suicide in his bathroom, fucking Draco Malfoy is his bloody soulmate and now he’s neither fucking moving nor breathing on the bathroom floor, and Harry Potter just can’t accept that in his life, so he does the only thing he could think of –Muggle’s CPR system.

In no less than 2 minutes, Malfoy is heavily coughing out the liquid in his lungs, and hungr3

In no less than 2 minutes, Malfoy is heavily coughing out the liquid in his lungs, and hungrily inhaling all the air he can get. Harry is sighing in relief, muttering gratitude to any deity that can hear him, and gently patting the back of Malfoy’s back, letting him to catch his breath. When Malfoy is finally coherent enough to take in his surrounding, he finally catches Potter’s eyes and gets either confused or afraid, Harry won’t conclude the look Malfoy is projecting toward him.

“Potter?” he croaks hoarsely. Harry only nods before conjuring a glass of water for Draco to drink. He gulps the water hungrily, making Harry smiles before conjuring another glass. This time Malfoy drinks slower. “What are you doing here?”

“Not important.” Harry says as he dries Malfoy from any excess of water and cast a warming charm toward the blond boy. His clothes are dry now, but Harry can see how he’s fighting to keep himself from shivering, and how he struggles to keep his eyes open. So, Harry helps him to stand up, one hand tightly holding the hand that is slung on his shoulders, the other strongly supporting Malfoy’s weight by resting on his waist. “Come on, you need to rest, where’s your room?”

“Second door to your left.” Malfoy says sleepily before tucking his head on the crook of Harry’s neck. He chuckles a little. “Huh, you would always come on the right time, wouldn’t you? I thought being dead is peaceful, but even then you’re still here.” Harry almost trips on his own foot because of Malfoy’s sentence, his heart clenches painfully for a second. He’s silent until Harry successfully tucks him on his bed, covering the light body with one thick and fluffy blanket, only when Harry is leaving that Malfoy talks once again.

“Harry?” Harry comes back to the bed and sits on the edge, taking in how vulnerable Malfoy has let himself be right in this second. His heart once again thuds painfully, which makes him scrambles for something to hold on to for support–something that turns out as Malfoy’s hand- because he’s seriously in the verge of both panicking and breaking down, and he can’t have that, can he? Not when Malfoy is completely showing his vulnerability.

“Hmm?”

“I am not dead, aren’t I?” he asks what is obvious.

“No, you’re not.”

“Harry?” he once again hums softly as an answer. “I know I’m probably imagining all of this, but can you stay? At least until I fall asleep.” With that Harry can’t help but to settle himself beside the lying boy, one hand holding the pale hand tightly, while the other has started stroking the blond strands softly.

“Go to sleep, Malfoy, I’m here.” He says softly which elicits a small smile from Malfoy.

“Draco.” He says softly, eyes closed. “You can call me Draco.” He says it again before falling into soft snores.

The sun is blinding when Draco finally comes to full consciousness. He stares at the ceiling of his room for a very long time, remembering things that have happened in a slow pace. He vaguely remembers how he finally feels defeated enough that all the fight in his body just left him in a second, and he did… that. Oh Merlin, he fucking drowned himself in his tub, but he’s on his bed now, how on earth? Oh. Oh. Harry Potter. Then he snaps his head to look at his right, the spot he’s almost sure where Harry Potter would be if he actually came here and saved him. He knows it, he fucking knows that it was just probably his mind playing with him, that there’s no way Harry Potter was here. He’s at Hogwarts, teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, there’s no way he knows where Draco is to actually save him in time, he knew it, but he also hates himself because his stomach drop in disappointment when the spot beside him is vacant. Get it together, Draco Lucius Malfoy, you’re not dying, you didn’t try to kill yourself, it was probably just a dream because you just woke up so late in the day, there’s no Harry Potter to save you this time, fucking get over it. He saved you once, that’s it, it’s because he’s fucking noble and he’s a hero, not because he for one second cared about your well being, so fucking get over it. And stop dreaming about death, you have managed to live six years after the war, don’t throw away that effort now.

With that he gets out of his bed and opens the door of his room, feet lazily striding toward his kitchen, but he stops dead before he can even take a step inside his kitchen. His eyes are wide in shock as he witness the situation that is unraveling in front of him. Harry Potter is in his kitchen, bending over his oven, taking out what looks like a scalding hot apple pie, and putting it on the table, which is already full with food. Harry bloody Potter smiles proudly at his food, standing on the head of the table with a fucking apron wrapping his body. Potter finally makes eye contact with Draco, and his smile only widens.

“You’re here.” Draco feels stupid for stating the obvious, but he’s not very capable on making sentences that doesn’t sound like nonsense right now. Potter takes off his apron, puts it on the chair before walking straight to Draco.

“I thought you’ll be hungry, so I made food. Come on, while they’re still warm.” And as if on cue, Draco’s stomach actually makes a rumbling sound which reddens his cheeks in embarrassment, but Harry only chuckles lightly. Draco wants to start a conversation badly, but he can’t quite do anything else beside opening and closing his mouth without actually speaking or even eating. After a few minutes, he decides to just eat until his brain comes back to life. Harry Potter can cook.

“Potter, is this real, or am I actually dead on my tub?” Draco finally asks, which somehow elicits a sharp intake of breath from Potter’s side.

“Okay, let’s stop talking with death as the topic. You tried to –you were –fuck, you’re alive, that’s what matters, okay?” Harry seems having a difficult time making a sentence, which is not actually a surprise as it baffles Draco that Potter is a teacher when he can’t even talk properly to save his life. “Draco, I know this is not my place to say, but I really need you to not do anything like that ever again, please.”

“You don’t control my life, Potter.”

“Merlin, could you please for once just listen to me and do what I ask?! You’re going to make the both of us insane if you –oh goodness gracious, please, don’t even think about doing anything like that again, please.” Draco openly gapes at Harry as he blatantly begs Draco to not try any suicide.

“What is it to you?” Draco mutters confusedly, and only now Draco can assess his situation better. “I don’t understand. Why are you here in the first place? Why are you still here now? What is it to you if I commit a suicide, Potter? You never even ask about my condition, so, why do you suddenly care?” It doesn’t sound like accusation, Draco is just blatantly curious about all of this. He knows Potter doesn’t care about him; he, too, doesn’t care that much about him as long as he’s safe, and working at Hogwarts can guarantee that safety. So, what’s this sudden intrusion on his life? Harry sighs heavily.

“Eat first, then I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” Draco nods at that and tries to finish the food in front of him –Merlin, this is a lot of food.

“Are you trying to make me fat, Potter?” Draco finally asks playfully with a smirk, but it seems like the tension hasn’t actually left the room as Potter takes his joke seriously, and succeeds on making Draco blushes.

“Yes, you’re too light, Draco. I don’t like it.” Once again Draco is gaping like a fish. What the fuck, Potter? Why do you even care?

“So, you want to know why I’m here,” Harry shows the inside of his left arm to Draco, right where the compass is sitting motionlessly. “This is what brought me here.” Draco is compelled to examine the tattoo, and his hand is already caressing the tattoo softly before he can retract it. The tattoo is laced with magic, a very familiar magic that one, one beautifully odd magic.

“Luna.” Draco states.

“How do you know?”

“She made one for me, on our last day at Hogwarts. What does it do?”

“It shows me the way to something that is missing in my life, something that will complete me.” Draco blinks at that, not uttering a single word because right now the tip of its needle is pointing at Draco.

“That’s how you found me, okay, you crack one puzzle. How do you actually know when?”

“I don’t know, McGonagall let me leave to search for you four days ago, thank Merlin I am not late.”

“Why do you keep saying that?!” Draco finally snaps. “It’s not like you care for me, Potter.” now it does sounds like an accusation.

“I do.” Harry finally says softly after a long pause. “I care for the person that this compass points me to, I care for them immensely, and if that person turns out to be you then, screw me, but I still care about you. You don’t share someone’s pain and tears for months without eventually caring for them.”

“Wh-what?”

“Two days after I got this tattoo, I kept feeling immense pain and sadness to the point of tears, Draco. Luna said she might have strengthened the bond between us, the bond between two souls that belong together. At first, I thought it was joke, because seriously not even Hermione has ever read about soulmate bond, but then I wonder what if we're more connected than we always thought –what if people are always connected to one another?- because the pain and tears that I felt are not mine, and those are not some sick illusion, Draco. Those are real feelings, and if they are real then so are you. I might not know who you were back then, but I believe you’re real.”

“And you have felt it since?”

“Christmas holiday.”

“And you only come now?” even Draco can hear the pathetic crack in his voice. He hates it, Draco hates being weak, but Potter is here, and Potter said that he has a soulmate –that Potter is his soulmate- and that Potter has endured the same pain as Draco without complaining for months, and seriously how can someone not become vulnerable after hearing things like that? So, vulnerability be damned, Draco wants to know why he only comes now, instead months and months ago. The things that happen next are just so out of Draco’s control that he only goes along with it. Potter traps him in his tight embrace, strong arms circling Draco’s body, shielding Draco’s fragile form from the world. For once he lets himself be shielded, he lets himself to melt inside Potter’s embrace, because Potter feels warm, and nice, and so very secure.

“I’m sorry I took so long. I wish I could say it’s because I have responsibilities as a teacher, but in reality I’m just stuck between what I need to do and what I want to do, and I was stupid enough to actually choose what I have to do instead of you. I’m sorry…” Harry started threading his fingers softly in Draco’s hair.

“And you’re okay with this?” Draco asks quietly. “With me being your soulmate?”

“Thank Godric, it’s you.” Harry says in actual relief which makes Draco chuckles. “Just please don’t do anything remotely stupid as drowning in a tub ever again and I’ll be completely happy. I can handle pain, and tears, and sadness, even your immense joy and giddy happiness in those short few months that feels remotely similar to a schoolgirl crush, but I can’t keep myself sane if you become cold and detached, and the next second I know I found you not breathing in a tub. Merlin, Draco, seeing you not breathing like that…” Harry can’t quite finish his sentence as it’s just so awful. He doesn’t want to ever witness anything like that ever again, especially not with Draco.

“That giddy happiness was known as my Mother, and that detached feeling is what usually came out after you lost your source of giddy happiness.” Draco says softly, letting him be comforted by the hands that tighten around him.

“Jesus, I’m sorry.” Draco hates the guilt in Harry’s voice, so he tries to lighten the tension.

“Don’t worry, I don’t have any boyfriend for the last two year, Potter, I might be rusty in a relationship.” Draco halts his tongue, but it’s too late, the words are already out. “Sorry, I’m–” Draco scrambles away from the hug to find any believable reason, but his mind draws blank. Harry only chuckles.

“You don’t think I would waste three days flying over here from Hogwarts to go home with an empty hand, do you? Oh, Draco, I won’t go back before you say yes on being in a relationship with me…” Harry says playfully which earns him a mild slap to the arm. They both laugh softly.

“Look at that…” Draco chuckles in awe at his arm. Harry takes a look at his arm closely. “I have two tattoos from Luna. The first one is this.” Draco shows the Dark Mark that is currently being decorated with flowers in beautiful colours. “Luna made it to cover the Mark. The second is this small tree. It’s full with flowers on spring, but look at that, it’s almost June and they just keep blooming.”

“They’re pink.” Harry says in awe as a flower just bloom right under his finger. Draco smiles at that.

“They’re supposed to be white. You know what Luna said that last day before we graduated?” Harry shakes his head. “She said maybe one day it will show its true colour instead of white." Draco smiles when he remembers his last day at Hogwarts. "Maybe one day it will show its true colour instead of white, one day when spring comes into your life, Draco Malfoy.” she had said that day, and Draco never actually believes her because spring comes and goes, and not once his flower turns into another color, up until now when it's not even supposed to be spring any longer. Harry is busily staring at Draco when he looks up, all gentle stare and captivating grey orbs –Harry has never imagined he’ll ever see this side of Malfoy being directed at him, but here he basks in the fond expression and tender smile. And once again Harry Potter embraces Draco Malfoy inside the circle of his arms, this time gently trapping Draco’s lips in lingering kisses, vowing to never again letting this man fight the battles in his life alone nor he ever going anywhere from Harry’s life.

You taste like spring, Harry Potter.

#drarry #long fic #draco malfoy #harry potter #this is part two #this actually contains draco #omg #warning #this might trigger some reader #suicide attempt #please don't read it if it might triggers you #ginafics

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