Chapter Text
Harry woke up warm and comfortable. The bed he was in was soft and huge. The best part by far, however, was the person currently using his chest as a pillow.
After a long, hard year, Harry finally defeated the self-proclaimed Dark Lord, Tom Riddle. After the battle, he had shared a very passionate kiss with someone most would never have suspected.
First, the person was male. Being Harry Potter, secrets are near impossible to keep. But only those closest to him had known Harry was bisexual. But then, you have to add the fact that technically the person he kissed was a Death Eater.
He wasn’t a very good Death Eater. Not only had the Mark been forced upon him, but he also couldn’t do what it took to be a Death Eater. He couldn’t kill or torture, almost to save his own life. It’s a good thing he had help, otherwise he wouldn’t have lived past sixteen.
But the biggest reason it was shocking was the fact that the person was none other than Draco Malfoy.
It all started with an anonymous letter, right after Easter. The letter had had invaluable information that led to the destruction of the Horcruxes Voldemort had made. And though the letter was signed “a friend,” Harry and Hermione had known immediately that it was from Draco.
Harry had replied, and from there a secret correspondence had begun between the two from the month after Easter until what is now known as the Battle of Hogwarts.
It had finally ended with Harry sending a memory of himself confessing his feelings for Draco...among other things. Draco helped save Fred Weasley’s life, helped save Severus Snape’s life, and promised Harry he wouldn’t let him fail in his mission to destroy the Dark Lord just before Harry had run off into the Forbidden Forest and was murdered.
Yes, Harry literally died to save the wizarding world. They were mostly grateful for it, too, so he wasn’t too put out over the fact that a seventeen year old, muggle-raised half blood had to die and come back to life in order to save everyone.
Back to Draco. After a passionate kiss in the middle of the battlefield, it was rather impossible to avoid the Prophet getting ahold of the story.
Harry had taken Draco aside and they talked long into the night. They discussed their pasts and the choices they had made. They then discussed their futures.
Harry knew he wanted to be with Draco. It wasn’t only teenage lust and the stress of his life. Draco was witty, caring and determined. He was cunning and ambitious, and all the other good parts of Slytherin house. He insisted he had changed his views on blood supremacy and that he could prove it to Harry.
In the month since the battle, that had proven to be true. Draco had immediately gone up to Hermione and formally apologized, with all that entailed for a pure blood. She accepted and the two began a tentative friendship. They had a lot in common, and once Draco had pushed past his issues with her blood status, they realized they had no shortage of things to talk about.
Draco had apologized to everyone else as well, and now even Ron was more than just tolerating the blond for Harry’s sake. Watching the two of them go head-to-head at wizard’s chess was a sight to behold.
There had been a discussion about where to go after the battle and Harry had realized he couldn’t go back to Grimmauld yet. It held too many memories, some good, others not. Draco offered him a wing of Malfoy Manor, without consulting his parents, but Harry wasn’t quite comfortable with that. Turns out neither were Lucius and Narcissa.
Instead, Harry bunked with Ron until the twins moved back to their flat a week after the battle. Bill, Fleur, Percy and Charlie had also come home for a week. Molly had wanted the whole family together. After the immense stress of the last few years, Harry didn’t blame her. In fact, he was grateful to have everyone he loved so close. It was nice to spend time and bask in the fact that they were safe now.
Even though he lived at the Burrow, Harry did sometimes spend the night elsewhere. Which is how he came to be in such a large and comfortable bed, being used as a pillow.
Harry looked down to see the early morning sunlight highlight Draco’s platinum blond hair. The sun made Draco’s skin appear alabaster, especially against Harry’s own summer tan.
Harry ran a hand through Draco’s hair and he shifted a bit, a smile coming onto his face. He was still asleep, and would be for a while if Harry didn’t wake him.
Harry debated doing just that. He was hungry, but Lucius and Narcissa were on house arrest and thus were guaranteed to be home. Narcissa was fine with Harry and his relationship with her son. She had been fine with it almost since the beginning. It was as if she had suspected it long before they told her about it.
Lucius was a whole other story. He still hated Harry. Not dislike, or anything less severe. He didn't try to hide that he hated Harry. In fact, he was quite open about it. The feeling was mostly mutual - the man had tried to murder Harry many times since Harry was twelve, he felt entitled to a bit of dislike - but Harry was trying for Draco and Narcissa’s sakes. Lucius was not.
It was getting to the point that Harry was, for the most part, exasperated at the senior Malfoy’s childishness. Harry’s natural snarky and cheeky demeanor was coming through more and more as he was becoming comfortable at the Manor.
Draco thought it was hilarious whenever Harry would snark at Lucius. Narcissa tried her best to hide her mirth, but even Severus had laughed when Harry had turned Lucius’ hair pink last week. Harry had damn near fainted from shock at hearing the man laugh, but that’s another story altogether.
Harry was still debating whether it was worth it to risk Lucius without Draco as a buffer when his stomach gurgled and his bladder became painful. He decided he would be fine and carefully extracted himself from his octopus of a boyfriend.
He made his way into Draco’s massive en suite and took care of his morning ablutions. He forewent a shower and donned a pair of pajama pants and a bathrobe. Then he slipped out of the room, checking that Draco was still asleep as he passed by.
He padded down the marble stairs and through the halls into the breakfast room. He happily inhaled the scent of tea and bacon. He loved house elves. He made his way to the table and gave Narcissa a kiss on the cheek before he sat down.
The table only had four chairs, so he was far closer to Lucius than he wanted to be. But he ignored the man and set about making his tea. He noticed there was a separate sugar container and, while suspicious, made his tea anyway.
His suspicions were proved correct with his first sip of the hot liquid and he spat it out immediately. He didn’t even feel guilty for spitting tea into Lucius’ stupid face.
“Oh my!” Narcissa exclaimed, her hand flying to her chest in alarm.
Harry glared at the Malfoy Lord.
“What the fuck Lucius?” Harry demanded with an exasperated sigh.
“Language,” Lucius sneered.
“I think I can cuss out the man who just tried to poison me. Again,” Harry stated, deadpan.
“Lucius!” Narcissa said, offended. “You cannot keep trying to kill Harry!”
Lucius merely sniffed and continued to clean his face.
“Lucius. What part of ‘Master of Death’ do you not understand?” Harry asked and rolled his eyes.
Lucius continued to ignore him and instead went back to his breakfast. Harry sighed and vanished his tea as well as the sugar bowl in front of him. He was glad Narcissa hadn’t used that one.
“Dobby,” Harry called. He chose Dobby instead of Kreacher or one of the Malfoy elves because he knew it would piss Lucius off.
“What can Dobby bes doing for the great Master Harry Potter, sir?” Dobby enquired when he appeared. Harry was well aware that Dobby only addressed him like that when in the presence of Lucius. He had considerably toned down his hero-worship. But he knew it irked the eldest Malfoy and Dobby disliked the man as much as, if not more than, Harry himself.
As if on cue, Lucius twitched. Harry smirked.
“Can you make sure none of my food and drink have been tampered with, please Dobby?” Harry asked.
“Certainly Master Harry Potter, sir.”
The elf snapped his fingers and half of the food on Harry’s side of the table vanished. Harry glared at Lucius for a second and proceeded to fill his plate from what was left.
“Cans Dobby bes doing anything else for the great Master Harry Potter, sir?”
“No, thank you Dobby.” Harry replied and the elf disappeared.
“Honestly, Luc. You must stop this. Think of what you’re doing. If Harry wanted to, he could have you in Azkaban for attempted murder!” Narcissa said. She was always the voice of reason between the two wherever Harry was concerned.
And it was true that Harry could have Lucius locked up with nary a thought. Not only was Lucius actually trying to murder Harry, but also Harry was still Harry. He was more than just the Boy-Who-Lived now. He was the Savior. He had rid the world of Voldemort, once and for all. The Ministry loved him, especially since King became minister.
Harry sighed. This was about the fifth time Lucius had tried to kill him in some way. The go to method seemed to be poisoning, for which Harry was grateful. A trip down the stairs may not be deadly anymore, but it still hurt like hell. And he still needed to heal from wounds such as those caused by falling several stories to the ground. Lucius was becoming a pain in the ass.
Harry wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Yes, Lucius was trying to kill him. The only reason he was unsuccessful was because Harry had kept the Elder Wand and Resurrection Stone. It was a given that Harry had never intended to get rid of the Cloak of Invisibility. Having kept all three, Harry was now the Master of Death.
Harry had yet to discover all that entailed, but he did know it made him immune to death. At least thus far it had. He wasn’t too worried about Lucius’ repeated murder attempts. He actually thought it was just Lucius taking his time to warm to the idea of Harry dating his son.
Harry figured as long as he was unable to be killed, he would ignore Lucius’s repeated attempts on his life. So long as Lucius focused on Harry alone and kept it to less painful methods, Harry decided he could deal with it on his own without involving the ministry.
Harry finished his breakfast in silence and went back to Draco’s room. He refused to even acknowledge Lucius, but he did pause to brush a kiss on Narcissa’s cheek as he passed. She did her best to control her husband, Harry knew.