Chapter Text
He cheated death twice, one from the fiendfyre and one from Azkaban. Perhaps he was destined to die back in the fiendfyre, trapped in a raging inferno and scorched by the flames alongside his friend, Crabbe, but Harry and his friends managed to save him and Goyle by pulling them to their broom.
Perhaps fate was angry and tried to take his second chance at life that he knew he didn't deserve. He was supposed to die on the cold floor of Azkaban, lonely and cold until an Auror or whoever oversaw him found him. However, Harry had again saved him by testifying for him and his mother at their trial.
Draco knows, he knows, he can't run and dodge fate forever. He must accept the punishment from Mother Nature eventually and let it take his life when all things seem to be better for him. He thought this was the last chapter of his life, so he planned to make it worth it for him and his twisted-fate husband.
Draco recalls vividly how the Wizengamot judge asked Harry Potter to marry him at his trial, leaving the poor man with wide eyes and speechless. He remembers Harry's face, blank and confused. As the sodding saviour that he is, Harry consented to the request. He's even willing to take Draco's last name. All for Draco's sake, to keep him out of Azkaban and reclaim his manor and vault.
At his wedding chapel, beneath the spectacular chandelier, they wore an elegant red velvet robe, which Draco can still recall vividly. He could tell that Harry was happy from the look on his face, and the thought made him smile as well. Draco was sure that this was the first time in his life that he had ever smiled so hard that it hurt his cheek.
Nonetheless, he was wrong. He was wrong on many things, but he can't believe he was sure that Harry was happy with him. Of course, no one can be happy with him, not even the saviour. He found Harry curled in their bed that night as sniffles and sobs escaped his quivering lips.
Harry wasn't happy with all of this. He mourns for days for the passing of his parents, friends, and new-found family. He grieves for his happiness, which he will never have again for the rest of his life or as long as he and Draco are bonded.
On the night that was supposed to be the night to consummate their wedding, he sent a calming charm through the bond and saw Harry's trembling shoulder subside. Draco chose to sleep on the couch, allowing Harry to have their entire bedroom to himself, and closing the bond so Harry could not feel his emotions or pains. It has not changed since then.
“Why do you sleep on the couch? It would make your body ache,” Harry asked him. Draco stops eating and looks up to meet Harry's frown. He shrugs.
“Hmm, no reason actually, I just feel like it,” Draco answered, waving his hand in front of him like he erased all the reasons that could come up in his brain.
“You should sleep on the bed sometimes, I don't want to hear your complaints about your back hurting two years from now,” Harry scolded him. There are butterflies in his stomach as his heart picks up its speed, but he gives a secretive smile to his husband.
“Don't worry, I won't,” Draco assured him.
“Because at that time, I won't be here,” He added in his thought.
“Well, I will remind you when the time comes." Harry shrugged and continued to eat his breakfast.
“Look forward to it,” Draco grins smugly as he follows what Harry did.