Work Text:
The day was calm.
The weather bore no intense heat nor extreme cold.
There were no unforgiving winds, or harsh rainfall.
Everything was still.
Peaceful.
Perfect.
Even the normally rowdy common room of lions reflected the tranquility of the world.
The Weasley twins weren't plotting pranks, nor were Lavender and Parvati gossiping. Instead both parties - much like the rest of their house - sat relaxed in opposing corners of the common room. Relishing in the harmonious silence.
Not even the Creevey brothers could be heard bustling around after their idol Harry Potter, instead they sat peacefully on the floor playing a game of wizards’ chess together.
Nothing could disrupt their newfound cosy atmosphere...or so they thought.
Harry was contempt with the soothing inactivity of his house. He had begun to feel constantly exhausted by there over the top tendencies and loud extravagance. Maybe it was the Slytherin in him, or maybe the hours of giving out autographs and late night lion parties have finally taken its toll on him. Maybe it was both, who knows.
It didn't take him long to notice the peculiar, hushed attitude of his roommates, it took him even less time to take advantage of it.
Maybe it was the Slytherin in him after all.
He wasted no time in getting dressed in his favourite baggy sweater and sprawled put on the couch in-front of the fire place. Lying on his back he propped one arm up under his head and used the other to support his book.
Yes, Harry Potter liked to read. For some reason this often came as a shock to people, he couldn't see why and to be honest, he couldn't quite bring himself to care either.
He took out his bookmark and flicked through the pages, picking up where he left off.
It was a muggle novel he had grown quite fond of over the years.
A fantasy series called Percy Jackson.
Ironic right?
The-Boy-Who-Lived reading about the chosen one in the world of demigods. But he couldn't help himself, a young boy labelled as a hero and stuck with a destiny he didn't choose nor want. He found it relatable, and he enjoyed the Greek mythology aspect of it. He found it fascinating.
He relaxed into the couch and allowed himself to be lost in the mystical land of words, spared from his reality.
This went on for quite a while, the serenity of the room going undisturbed for a period longer than it ever had before in the tower of Godric.
That was until the portrait burst open in a rather dramatic fashion drawing the shocked attention of all. (Bar Harry Potter who was used to the unexpected by now)
Now there was nothing abnormal about the opening of the portrait door. In actual fact, it was completely normal and only to be expected. But this time it wasn’t. This time it made them look twice.
For it wasn’t the opening of the portrait hole that caught their attention, but rather the who came through from the other side.
It was none other than the prince of Slytherin himself.
Draco Malfoy.
But not as they knew him. No. He was different.
The Draco they knew stood tall, holding his head up high, an evil sneer on his face with the snark to match.
But this Draco. This Draco was slouched, his head down and his expression shy, almost as if he were trying to make himself look smaller.
His normally immaculate hair was messy and unbrushed.
His Storm grey eyes were dull and ringed.
He looked nothing like the insufferable git they’d come to know.
Never the less, the proud house of Godric Gryffindor tensed and prepared for a fight. They would not let looks deceive them.
They didn’t know how Malfoy managed to get the password to the tower – unless Neville left his password sheet lying around again – but they knew his intentions would be no less than sinister.
However they stayed silent. Quietly observing the Slytherins movements before taking action, because contrary to popular belief the house of Lions did think before they did.
So they stayed where they were and waited for the snake to make the first move.
Draco never looked up once, nor did he so much as acknowledge the presence of the people whose tower he’d invaded. Instead he kept his gaze pinned on the floor and made a beeline straight to the couch where Harry Potter lay peacefully reading his novel.
Ron tried getting the green-eyed hero’s attention as the Slytherin drew nearer and nearer, but Harry didn’t do as little as flinch.
When Draco reached the edge of the couch, the Ravenette merely lifted his novel allowing the other boy to slide between his arms. The Malfoy heir situated himself, so he was lying on top of him and wrapped his arms around his waist, burying his face into the crook of his neck.
Harry kissed Draco on the forehead “Bad day love?”
“Mhmm” came Draco’s muffled reply as he snuggled even further into the warmth of his boyfriends embrace.
Harry chuckled softly.
After placing another gentle kiss on the top of Draco’s head, he brought his arms down to rest the book on the blondes back, leaving one hand free to comb through the platinum hair of his boyfriend, massaging his scalp and continued to read as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
By now the others had realised there was no hidden agenda to Malfoy being there and went back to relaxing.
Everyone except for Ron, who sat gawking at the couple from his place on the floor next to the couch.
Hermione rolled her eyes and whacked him upside the head with her book
“Honestly Ronald” she muttered before sending a small smile at, the honestly, quite cute couple.
They both deserved happiness after all they had been through since the war and she was delighted that they had found it in each other.
With once last glare at Ron (who was still gaping like a fish) and the twins (who were collecting galleons) she sat back and continued writing her potions essay.
Needless to say that wasn’t how the couple had planned on coming out, but when does anything of value go according to plan?