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When Draco’s trial comes to an end, he is sentenced to five years’ probation. If during that time he commits a crime, he’ll end up in Azkaban. But Draco has no desire to commit any crime. He just wants to forget.
Harry Potter testified in his favour─a strange story about visions. Draco has observed him all this time in disbelief and gratitude. He can’t think of a single reason why Harry would do something like that. In fact, he can’t think of any reason why Harry might have saved his life in the Room of Requirement either.
Draco sees Harry in the hallway, and he quickly approaches him before he can leave. He needs to know.
“Why?”
Harry’s gaze is solemn.
“You were trapped, like me. You deserve the opportunity to make your own decisions.” Harry nods slightly. “Good luck, Malfoy.”
Harry walks down the hall, leaving him behind. He has always left him behind, but Draco doesn’t feel any rancour or bitterness this time, only the shocked feeling of being understood. Understood by Potter, out of all the wizards in the world. All the pieces fall into place and Draco contemplates his whole past in a new light. For the first time, he sees the brave, generous and noble boy he never knew, wanted or could see at Hogwarts.
And he feels something, a stabbing in his heart, a longing growing.
He tries to deny it for a few days, but finally he has to admit the truth: he has fallen in love with Harry Potter.
Half of the Wizarding world is in love with Harry Potter. Draco knows that and finds it a bit humiliating to be one more. However, that humiliation is nothing compared to the torture that comes from knowing that Harry will never be his and that any of the silly girls that pine for him would have a better chance of attracting the hero.
And it’s not because Harry only likes girls. There are rumours that he had a couple of romps with a Ravenclaw boy before getting involved with Ginny Weasley. But even though he may like guys and girls equally, Draco is sure that Harry doesn’t like people with the Dark Mark on their forearm. How could he? How could Harry, who has lost his parents and his godfather at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, feel something for someone like him? Furthermore, how could he forget the cruel insults he received from Draco at Hogwarts?
Besides, Harry is in love with the youngest Weasley. Draco thinks that he could have gotten someone better, but he doesn’t fool himself into believing he’s that person. Ginny Weasley annoys the hell out of him just with her unmarked forearms. Anyway, what matters is that Harry loves her and loves the Weasleys. Their marriage may as well have already happened; it is inevitable.
No. Draco doesn’t get his hopes up and he doesn’t plan any approaches. He can be one more wizard in love with Harry Potter, but at least he is realistic.
Draco stops reading the Daily Prophet. He can’t bear to see Harry on each cover. He can’t bear Harry’s expression of simple surprise in the picture whenever Draco stares at Harry with eyes full of longing and desire. Even worse is seeing him hand in hand with Ginny Weasley.
It hurts.
Draco never imagined that suffering from unrequited love could be so painful. Given that he knows how a Cruciatus Curse actually feels, he doesn’t make the metaphoric mistake of comparing them, but even so, it’s an agonising pain that keeps him awake at night and tortures him. Not even his memories of Voldemort, nor the fact that the Malfoys are not really welcomed anywhere, nor the sense of shame of his own role during the war compare. No. It’s the certainty of knowing that Harry will never be for him, that this void in his soul will never be filled and his body will never know the relief of his embrace.
He wants to forget; it’s what he wants the most in the world. So he fucks almost all of the people his age capable of enjoying a quickie with a former Death Eater, trying to blot out Harry from his mind. But all of them feel wrong, like when you try to remember a name but only similar ones that are not quite right come to mind. All of them remind Draco of what he never will have. Sometimes he closes his eyes and tries to pretend that he’s with Harry, and that it’s his body that’s trembling underneath him; his mouth moaning and his cock or his arse the ones bringing Draco to orgasm.
But Draco knows, deep down, that he will never stop loving him. It’s a part of him, such as being blond, or pureblood or the son of his parents. You can’t fight what you can’t change.
Despite having avoided the Prophet during the past three years, Draco couldn’t help noticing that the date for Harry and the Weasley girl’s wedding is already set. The announcement is everywhere, and it feels as if someone has removed all his air with a punch to his stomach. He had known it would happen and yet that hadn’t prepared him; it still feels like a death sentence.
Draco leaves; he packs up and goes away with the first international Portkey he finds, and he ends up in Ukraine, where he earns the reputation of drunkard and playboy. His mother writes him long anxious letters that he rarely answers. However, one morning he awakens in a Muggle alley in Minsk with a mongrel pissing over him. And for the first time in a while, Draco feels something that has nothing to do with Harry, an intense shame at being in that condition. He goes back to the house he has rented, throws up, showers until his skin is almost raw, and decides to stop drinking.
He cannot continue like this. The survivor inside him takes control. He will never be with Potter and he will never be complete at all. However, life goes on and he must live it as best as he can. Thinking about the further dishonor he might have brought to his family's much-maligned name if any witch or wizard had found him in that pitiful condition is an incentive to not carry on like this again because of his misery.
Draco travels again and this time he spends a few months in Italy. He meets a couple of wizards his age, friendly and funny, and with them he explores the Muggle museums, the incredible frescos, and the Sistine Chapel, which leaves him literally speechless. How wrong was Voldemort about Muggles? How much pain was caused by stupid blindness?
Draco gets used to thinking of other things besides Harry Potter and he makes peace with his situation. There are some people who lose an eye or a leg; he has lost his heart. But sooner or later comes the moment of acceptance.
When autumn comes and the leaves rustle in the trees, Draco returns to England and announces that he has decided to get married.
Astoria Greengrass is the one chosen─pretty, intelligent and wants a luxurious life that her parents or a job in the Ministry cannot provide her with. The wedding is small and discreet. Though the event is not nearly as grandiose as other ceremonies taking place at Malfoy Manor, at this time of the year the gardens look beautiful.
Eleven months later, Scorpius is born. Draco watches his tiny, blond child in Astoria’s arms and understands that for the first time, Harry has gained a fierce competitor for his heart.
As they had agreed, he and Astoria divorce when Scorpius reaches three years of age. Nevertheless, she doesn’t leave Malfoy Manor. There is no need. They are good friends and the Manor is enormous. Draco knows that maybe things will change if Astoria falls in love with someone, but for the moment, she is happy being single and having sporadic affairs that she never brings home, which is what Draco has done all along. After all, this situation works best for Scorpius, who can have his mother at home. If a romance doesn’t hasten matters, Astoria will stay there until Scorpius attends Hogwarts.
Draco doesn’t want to obsess about anything and he just wants to enjoy the presence of his son. He can play with Scorpius for hours and watch him explore the world, see his face of concentration when painting, and listen to the voices he does when he plays with his toys and his laughter when someone tickles him. But above all, Draco enjoys the way in which Scorpius snuggles against him, cuddly and eyes shining with love and trust. He’s his entire life.
By an ironic twist of fate, Scorpius is destined to attend Hogwarts the same year as Albus Severus, Harry’s second son. Discovering the name of his old mentor bestowed upon a Potter gives him mixed feelings. It’s obvious that Harry could forgive Snape and appreciate his efforts because he turned out to be a spy for Dumbledore, but Draco knows that he cannot play that card. He isn't some hero in the shadows.
For Draco, what matters at that very moment is that Scorpius doesn’t make the same mistakes as him.
Draco sometimes bumps into Harry on the street or sees him in The Leaky Cauldron or in a shop. The first few years it was nearly impossible to see Harry not surrounded by people who wanted to greet and congratulate him. However, now, little by little, everybody has grown accustomed to seeing him and he barely causes a sensation. They respect and admire him as much as before, but they don’t feel the urge to hover around like gadflies.
When they run into each other, Draco greets him with a serious, brief nod. That’s all he dares to do for fear that he will betray his feelings. And even though it doesn’t hurt as much as before, his stomach plummets every time Draco sees him. Harry has become more attractive over the years, his shoulders wider and his jaw firmer. Draco still doesn’t read the Prophet, but from time to time he hears about Harry’s great feats tracking down the serial murders of old women, the traffickers of Felix Felicis, the kidnapped child, and so on. Harry still fights for a better world. He still makes a difference.
Harry returns his greetings similarly and disappears again from his life. Draco makes his way with an open wound again, but he remembers his reasons to be happy in the bright eyes of his son. And those nights, he goes to sleep thinking about how things could have been if he wasn’t born destined to take the Mark, and if he hadn’t insulted Hagrid, the Weasleys and Harry’s parents; if only everything had been different.
Draco imagines himself laughing with Harry while competing on their brooms, traveling around the world, fucking with abandon on a rainy Sunday afternoon, waking up and finding him at his side. He knows that they would argue often, but he has no doubt that they would fix it with hot and passionate sex sessions. Harry occasionally would insist on going to Muggle places and he would protest a little to keep with his role, even though he wouldn’t mind it. They would be happy.
It could have been.
When the time comes for Scorpius to depart for Hogwarts, Draco has to strive not to end up drinking or betraying the terrible depression that overwhelms him. He cannot believe he won’t see Scorpius until Christmas. His departure is a terrible time for Draco and Harry’s presence in the station with his wife doesn’t help matters. Draco spends the rest of the day lying on the sofa, with no desire to move and feeling terribly alone. His parents are a little worried, but they attribute it all to the absence of Scorpius. They don’t know the truth, nobody knows.
The next day, a nice grey owl brings the first letter from Scorpius, proudly announcing that he has been sorted into Slytherin. The family celebrates it, although it’s not a surprise. Scorpius is a smooth talker of the first magnitude and he always manages to get what he wants. There’s no mention of Potter and Weasley, for which Draco is thankful, even though days later he finds out that Albus Potter has turned out to be a Ravenclaw.
Scorpius writes three letters a week, but it’s not the same as having him there. Without his son at home, the Manor walls fall down on him. His mother suggests he travel a bit, but Draco doesn’t want to stray further from Scorpius. Instead, he chooses to work. The magical community’s hostility toward the Malfoys has largely vanished as years go by and since Draco speaks four languages fluently and gets by in many others, he gets a job at the Department of International Relations. He essentially deals with translating letters and, very occasionally, attends a meeting with foreign delegates, but it’s quite involving, which is what he wants. And he neither gets along poorly with his colleagues, nor gets along well with them, but he is cordial. He sometimes goes with them for a pint after work and he even has a brief affair with a spirited and highly flexible witch.
In the Ministry, Draco bumps into Harry in the corridors almost once a week. At first they greet each other quietly, but after a few months, Harry makes some comments to him about the foul weather or asks him how he’s doing. A short chat; Draco has that kind of relationship with half of the Ministry. However, with Harry, he has to hide the way his body stirs and how his eyes look at Harry’s mouth, while his own lips tend to curl in a silly grin. That’s all he has left, self-respect, to know that nobody’s seen his twenty years of wasted love.
When Harry divorces Ginny Weasley, the rumour causes an outcry across the Ministry and Draco suffers another shock when he finds out. He can hardly believe it. Why? They were the picture-perfect couple.
The first two days, Draco hears the most bizarre explanations: that Harry was involved with the other two thirds of the Trio; that Ginny has cheated on him with Neville Longbottom; that Harry suffers from premature ejaculation and he doesn’t satisfy her sexually; that Ginny used a love potion to marry him... And then, little by little, the real reason seems to take shape: it's an amicable divorce. Both agreed that it was for the best since the spark was gone. Draco cannot understand it. He can find plenty of reasons for why Harry can get over his love for her, but how can this woman be so stupid as not to realise how lucky she was? How could she have stopped loving Harry?
At least, Harry doesn’t seem too affected by the divorce. Since he has begun working in the Ministry, Draco has done everything possible not to pay attention to him, and not to look at him when they happen to meet in the cafeteria. However, these days, he watches him, looking for traces of desolation, but he doesn’t find them. And only a month later, he finds out that Harry is dating a girl from another department. Draco knows firsthand that fucking someone and feeling good are two different things, but Harry really gives the impression that he is fine.
The fact that Harry is now more or less a free man doesn’t make Draco hope for more, not even when Harry breaks up with that girl and starts dating the Wasps’ male coach. It doesn’t change anything. Draco has still insulted Harry too many times over the years, and the Mark, though faded, is still on his arm. Harry has no reason to be attracted to him and Draco won’t commit the folly of inviting him to go for a pint. Draco knows what it feels like to be rejected by Harry, and he won’t repeat the experience.
Scorpius returns home for the long summer holidays and Draco feels like freshly watered soil after a drought. His son speaks of the exams, boasts about his good grades, and laughs at the latest wrongdoing of Bernard Zabini, who is a year ahead. Scorpius also wants to try out for the Quidditch Team─he wants to be a Chaser─and Draco trains him during the summer, happy to spend all these hours with his son.
To his surprise, Scorpius is friends with Albus Potter. Draco finds out when he and Scorpius go down to Diagon Alley and encounter Ginny Weasley with her three children. Scorpius greets the two boys with warmth and Albus presents his sister, Lily. Ginny is much cooler, but Draco cannot blame her. When they separate, each on his own way, Draco nags his son and discovers that he and Albus have had some conversations about their parents being divorced. They don’t seem close friends, but of course there’s some friendliness between them.
Draco is proud and sad at the same time.
Scorpius’s departure for his second year at Hogwarts isn’t any easier than the first. At least not for Draco, though Scorpius is quite happy to see his Slytherin friends.
Draco feels so depressed again that many of his colleagues notice. But not even that prepares him for the day Harry stops him in the corridor and tells him that he doesn’t look so good and asks him if he’s okay. Draco just tells the truth, that he misses Scorpius, to which Harry nods and says that he also misses his two boys, but at least he still has the youngest child at home. And then, looking a bit uncomfortable, Harry asks him if he wants to go and have a pint with him to drown their sorrows.
Draco is certain that his heart, for a moment, has stopped beating. His mind begins to drift into possibilities: that he accepts the invitation and then others, and Harry one day confesses that he’s madly in love with him, but the fantasy lasts only a second. Harry’s just being nice, that’s all. Harry obviously doesn’t want to drink anything with him, and Draco doesn’t plan on granting himself that indulgence, much less at the expense of Harry’s discomfort. So he smiles as best as he can and says that it’s nothing and that he has too much work to do, and leaves before he says something that can ruin everything.
A few days later, Draco finds out that Harry is dying in the hospital and his world shatters.
The news spreads fast around the Ministry. It wasn’t an attack, and it wasn’t during a mission either, but nobody knows exactly what happened. Draco, desperate, tries to find out what he can and he’s sure that throughout the day, he has betrayed himself a half-dozen times. But he learns nothing. Harry has been in St Mungo’s since that morning and his condition is very serious. The mediwizards are working on him while the Weasleys are waiting for news in the hospital.
Since finding out the dreaded news about Harry’s condition, Draco gets in contact with a distant cousin of his mother who works at the hospital. The staff at St Mungo’s doesn’t know too much, but Draco is pretty sure that his cousin will help him. Draco asks him what exactly has happened to Harry, how he is and what the doctors say. His cousin replies to him the following day, saying that they already have a diagnosis: Potter has suffered the effects of a defective love potion. The mediwizards think that he won’t last more than a week.
That afternoon Romilda Vane is arrested. Draco, who is dying with Harry, wants to break into the dungeons of the Ministry and kill her with his own hands. But not even that fury distracts him from the impending death of Harry, the thought of which drives him crazy. It cannot be true, not like this. Harry has earned a far-off and peaceful death, not this end. He wants to shout, to scream, and he wants to mourn. Draco never had him in his life. If Harry had lived in another country, he hardly would have noticed the difference. But at least he would have known all that time that Harry was alive, that he was fine. If Harry dies... Imagine him gone forever... No, he couldn’t bear it.
So Draco waits on pins and needles to hear from his cousin about Harry’s condition and a day later, he tells Draco that there has been progress. Thanks to the information about the love potion that that stupid Vane has provided, the mediwizards have made a surprising discovery. There’s a treatment for Harry’s condition: a kiss. A kiss from the person who loves him most in the world. His cousin adds that, unfortunately, no one in his inner circle has managed to wake him up.
Draco begins to shake.
It’s absurd. He can’t be the one that could reverse the spell. Harry has thousands of people who adore him; how could he be the one able to heal him? It can’t be possible.
But his relative tells to Draco that the Weasleys are planning to appeal to the Wizarding world for anyone who feels something for Harry to go there and kiss him. They must be desperate. Draco is desperate, too, and he tells himself that if things have reached that point, it’s worth a try. He will never forgive himself if Harry dies because he hadn’t been able to try. He will go there and he will kiss him. Once he sees how nothing happens, Draco will leave the hospital to pray to the gods that the right person shows up soon. Draco is willing to pray for the right person’s appearance even if it’s Sybill Trelawney herself.
However, the idea of being exposed in front of the Weasleys is too much. He has to do it without anyone knowing. So he talks again with his cousin, who puts up a token objection. Draco, however, is able to convince his cousin to help him and keep silent by lining his pockets with a thousand Galleons.
Saying he’s nervous would be an understatement because he has the feeling he will make a fool of himself. He wants to back down half a dozen times, but the tiny chance of being right always stops him. Thus, at the appointed time, Draco arrives at St Mungo’s, and with the help of his cousin, sneaks into Harry’s room.
Visits aren’t allowed at night in the hospital so he’ll be able to be alone with Harry.
A cold and clammy sweat soaks Drao’s back and underarms. His heart is a roar in his ears. He’s going to kiss Harry, and maybe, just maybe, he will save his life.
His cousin entertains a nurse who is monitoring the corridors, and Draco, hidden under a Disillusionment Charm, goes into Harry’s room, which smells of disease and cleaning products. But Draco only notices Harry, who’s gaunt and pale and yet so beautiful, that his heart shrinks. Carefully, as if Harry were sleeping and not in a coma, Draco approaches him. His eyes devour him─he drinks him up as he has never been able to do─and after a hesitation, he dares to touch the lock of hair that falls over Harry’s forehead. His heart hurts as if he were having a heart attack. He wants him so much... He’s so worried about him...
Draco’s breathing becomes ragged and a lump in his throat makes it hard for him to swallow. He doesn’t want to mourn, so he gulps and leans towards Harry and kisses him on his warm and somewhat cracked lips. And for a moment, simply, the world is perfect, Draco can’t stop two tears from rolling down his cheeks. He’ll never, ever forget that kiss.
Harry’s lips remain inert under his own and Draco pulls back, distraught and weeping openly. It hasn’t worked. Harry hasn’t woken up.
Draco whispers a choked apology and looks at Harry for a few more seconds before starting to leave. It’s hard, because he would have preferred to stay by his side day and night. Every instinct tells him to stay.
Just as he’s about to turn around, Harry moves and turns on his side. Draco jerks up and stares at Harry intently. He hesitates to say his name, not believing that this is happening. Harry moves back again and his eyelids flutter.
He’s awakening. He’s waking up!
Panicked, Draco runs out of the room.
Harry recovers quickly and in two days he’s discharged. He remembers enough to know that there was someone else with him when he woke up, but that’s all. The Weasleys ask questions in the hospital that don’t lead anywhere.
Draco leaves again because he knows that if he stays in England, he will end up doing something stupid. The kiss is stuck in his memory and etched in his skin like the Mark or the scars of the Sectumsempra. Draco drowns with desire; he wants to go to Harry and kiss him again, hug him, hold him and never let him go.
This time he ends up in India. He rents a room in a hostel in the Wizarding district of Calcutta, and after spending two miserable days in bed, weeping, reliving that kiss over and over again, and masturbating to dryness, he forces himself to pick up the pieces of his fractured soul and tries to do it by sightseeing again. He visits Tibet, and then, following a tradition of the wizards and witches of the area, he climbs Mount Everest, which takes him a couple of hours using Apparition in slow increments to allow his body to get used to the altitude. Once at the top, he’s mesmerised by the incredible landscape before him: the frozen peaks enveloped by clouds at his feet and the incredible blue of the sky. The silent immensity of everything he sees makes his problems less important for a while, and he stays there until night falls and a breathtaking display of stars appears before his eyes. When he’s back in the hostel, Draco sleeps eight hours straight for the first time since he learned that Harry was in St Mungo’s.
He also visits the Taj Mahal, which catches his heart in his throat because of its beautiful proof of love. He has also given something to the person he loves; he’s given him life. And if Harry asked, he would build a similar palace for him. Draco would offer him proof of love that everybody would remember in the ages to come.
Draco strolls through the bazaars of Calcutta, New Delhi, Varanasi and Mayapur, buying gifts for his family and friends. He even buys something for Harry, a simple, yet elegant watch that tells the time, as well as predicting the weather and working as a Sneakoscope─a discreet vibration that alerts its owner every time they near someone wishing them any harm. He’s not sure if he will ever dare to send it anonymously, but he likes to think so, and that this piece of Draco will be forever by Harry’s side, accompanying and protecting him.
Draco strolls also along the Ganges, in whose waters men, women and children bathe, indifferent to the funeral pyres occasionally passing downstream. He explores lost temples in the jungle. He learns useful phrases in Hindi and Urdu, and the beauty and misery around overwhelm him with the same intensity. Slowly, he starts to believe that he’ll be able to return to England without losing his sanity.
At nightfall, Draco returns to the hostel loaded with a bag of food. He can’t cook in his room─not that he knows how to─but these are foods that he can snack on at midnight if he gets hungry, like apples and a couple of chocolate bars. When he enters the hostel, the smell notifies him that there’s tandoori chicken for dinner; the resident cook at this place is excellent.
He has just taken a few steps inside when the owner of the hostel, a brunette man with an aquiline nose and wearing square glasses, approaches him at a quick pace. Draco doesn’t know what might cause the proprietor to have such a look of complicity on his face till he reaches Draco and whispers that there’s an Englishman asking for him.
The surprise, for a moment, leaves him shocked. Who might it be? Who has found him? He isn’t waiting for anyone, and the prospect of meeting someone he knows fills him with apprehension. He’s not ready.
“Did he say his name?” he asks finally.
However, a voice to the right sounds before the man can answer.
“It’s me, Draco.”
Draco would recognise that voice anywhere. His heart pounds in his chest while he turns around and comes face to face with Harry Potter.
The bag of food falls to the ground, spilling its contents.
Harry starts to pick up the food quickly.
“Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Then Draco reacts, realising in the middle of his feverish state that he has to disguise his feelings as best as he can, so he also starts to pick up the food still remaining on the floor. They place it on a table and Draco forgets about it as soon as it disappears from his sight. Who knows what expression must show on his face, for the owner of the hostel asks him sternly if he wants him to alert the authorities.
“No! That’s not necessary,” Draco answers without taking his eyes from Potter. What is he doing here? Oh, Merlin, he knows. He knows! There can’t be any other reason. Harry has learned the truth somehow. “It’s just... such a surprise. I’m fine.” The man leaves. “What are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you. You don’t know what I had to do to find you. Can we go and talk someplace more discreet? Everybody is watching us.”
Draco accepts without really knowing why, because he doesn’t even remember there are other people in the world. He can only think that Harry knows, and all of his instincts are telling him to protect himself from the blow.
Draco closes the door behind them. The room is simple, but cosy, with a comfortable bed with sheets that are changed daily, a wardrobe, a desk and a window overlooking the street, and the voices of the wizards and witches who are walking by on the street below filter in. Harry’s presence there gives the whole place a dreamlike feeling.
“Why did you come?” he asked bluntly.
“Draco, I know what you did.”
Don’t tremble, don’t tremble, don’t tremble...
“What I did?”
“In the hospital. You woke me up.”
Draco feels the heat burning in his cheeks.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Potter. You have come for nothing.”
“No, Draco, please... Don’t do that. I know it was you. And I know what it means.”
Draco can’t keep pretending; his shame is too big to hide.
“Okay- Okay- You know it.” It doesn’t seem like Draco’s voice. “I’m sorry, okay? I just kissed you because I thought I should try it in case I saved you. Now go, go.”
However, Harry shakes his head and walks over to him. And suddenly he is touching his arm and he is squeezing his hand.
“No, no, Draco... Shit, I’m sorry, I’m doing this awfully. Don’t you understand? I needed to talk to you. I needed to thank you.”
Draco can hardly think. Not when Harry is so close. Touching him.
“You’re welcome,” he mutters almost automatically. What’s going on? What’s going on?!
Harry squeezes his hand again.
“Draco, look at me, please. Look at me.” Draco forces himself to do so and he can’t drag his eyes away; his gaze meets the purest, most beautiful green he has ever seen. “I respect you too much to lie to you, and I won’t tell you that I’m in love with you. I don’t want to play with you. But I like you, Draco. I really like you. I’m not sure why you’ve come to India, but if I’m the reason, you don’t have to. I want to be with you. Come back to England with me and let’s see what happens, okay? I have a good feeling about this. A very good feeling.”
It’s too good to be true. Harry cannot be in front of him, with those dark trousers and that dark grey sweater, his tousled hair, actually saying these things.
“It’s just gratitude, you’ll get over it.”
“It’s not gratitude, even though I thank you. I’ve liked you since before any of this happened. Don’t you remember that I asked you to have a drink with me? Since you said no, I thought you didn’t like me, but I was gathering my courage to try again.”
“Do you like me?” Merlin, he is being dense... But he can’t help it, he can’t even grasp what is happening. Harry nods and smiles. Draco touches his left forearm. “I have the Mark.”
How could Harry have forgotten something like that?
“I don’t care,” he answers, sounding almost surprised. “It just means that you made a mistake when you were young, and that Voldemort was a son of a bitch. I know that you don’t think the same as before. I saw you in the Ministry, speaking with everyone. I know you took Scorpius to EuroDisney a couple of years ago, Albus told me. You’re a good person, and that Mark doesn’t say anything true about you.”
Merlin, Harry is serious. Draco begins to believe it. The tears gather in his eyes and new, unknown happiness begins to spread as if a brightly coloured floodgate has been opened inside him.
“Harry,” he mutters.
He never thought that something like this could happen. He never dared to take any step toward having a relationship with Harry because he thought he had no chance.
But now he has Harry in front of him, a Harry that has come to India to tell him that he likes him and that there’s an opportunity. If his heart is at stake, he doesn’t mind; he would risk much more just to be with Harry. And when Harry smiles at him─the warmest smile Draco has ever dreamed─he smiles back and lets all his feelings for him show in his eyes.
“Oh, God... If you look at me like that, this is going to go very fast.”
Draco barely has time to think about what he means when Harry leans slightly towards him and kisses him. And it isn’t like the kisses he has received up until now.
His body seems to burst with joy. It’s much more than sexual desire, although he’s getting hard at a speed he hasn’t since his teenage days. It’s the way that every person says ‘I love you’ with each touch of his lips. It’s the way that makes his eyes fill with tears again because he has never felt such intense happiness in his life as he’s feeling now. For Draco, who’s been suffocating for more than half of his life, Harry is like a breath of fresh air. So he wraps his arms around Harry, refusing to let him go, because he just can’t.
Finally, he too is waking up.
They spend a few more days in India. Harry gets as excited as a child when he learns that it’s easy and relatively safe to climb Mount Everest, so they both go there one afternoon. There are a few pure white clouds in the blue sky over their heads that day. Harry watches everything, in awestruck silence by the view, and Draco watches him, feeling on top of the world for reasons that have nothing to do with Everest.
His mind is full of memories of the last days. Harry explains to him how he had found him. First he was able to identify him because in the hospital, when he was kissed, Harry had seen a vision of himself leaving the Wizengamot. After racking his brain trying to remember, and thanks to a spell of Hermione’s, he was able to fix that image in space and time. And then, desperate to find him─not even Draco’s family knew where he was, although he has sent them some letters with no return address─Harry took a swig of Felix Felicis. As soon as he drank the potion, he got the idea to try Divination, and he went and sought the help of Lavender Brown. Draco can’t believe that the girl with hair bows that sucked Weasley’s face so repulsively has played a vital role in his happiness, but she has, and not because she divined anything. Because visions and prophecies exist, but unless you are born with the talent, looking at tea leaves won’t get you anything. And when Lavender learned that Harry had gone there in search of Draco, she told him that a few days earlier she had received a letter from Padma Patil─who had been living in India since the war─mentioning that she thought she had seen Draco in the Wizarding neighbourhood of Calcutta.
Draco also knows that Romilda Vane got ten years for attempted rape, attempted kidnapping, inappropriate use of potions and causing grievous bodily harm to a law enforcement officer. Draco thinks that Vane is lucky Harry has recovered without any consequences, and not exactly because of what the Wizengamot could have done to her.
But above all, he remembers the feeling of sleeping together, entwined with Harry, who is cuddly like a spoiled cat. He remembers waking up and seeing Harry beside him and feeling his eyes fill with tears of happiness. He remembers their showers together, and the feel of Harry’s skin against his own. He recalls Harry’s enthusiasm when going to see the temples, and Harry’s sadness at seeing the poverty that surrounds them. Draco cherishes Harry’s suffocated moans during the absolutely fantastic sex, and Harry’s cold feet that he always places between his legs to warm up.
And when they return to England, everything is so easy... Harry’s friends welcome him with tentative friendliness. He has not only saved Harry’s life, but he has also proved to be the person who loves him the most in the world. What can they say to that? The women are more cordial; those twenty years of unrequited love Draco had for Harry apparently reach their soul and they think it’s adorable and romantic.
Lucius and Narcissa don’t raise any protest. Narcissa put two and two together when Harry had gone to ask for Draco at the Manor─it seems it was a conversation that Draco would have paid to witness─and she simply says, hugging Draco, how happy she is to see him so happy. His father is a little less enthusiastic, but he clearly doesn’t want to complain or stand in the way of his son’s happiness─although he threatens Harry that he will castrate him if he dares to harm his son. Astoria gives him a hug similar to Narcissa’s and mutters that she has always wondered whom Draco might be in love with. Pansy, Blaise and Greg are absolutely shocked, but they must see something in Draco’s eyes that makes them promise to be nice to Harry. And not even Harry’s children, nor Scorpius, object; Lily, in fact, has fallen under the powerful influence of the twenty years and looks at Draco as if he were her hero.
And the rest of the Wizarding world... well, some complain, but the majority leave them alone, especially when Harry says─without giving details, since the Weasleys didn’t make public that he needed a kiss to wake up─that it was Draco who saved his life.
Two weeks after returning to England, with only a few days before Christmas break, Draco goes to Grimmauld Place─he often sleeps there, although Harry has also stayed a few times in Malfoy Manor. Harry calls him from the kitchen and Draco goes to kiss him and see what smells so good. He finds Harry surrounded by pots, with a red apron that says World’s Best Dad and a concentrated and satisfied expression on his face.
“Hallo,” Draco greets, smiling.
“Hallo.”
Draco gets close and kisses him, pulling Harry closer against himself. He seems like a teenager these days, eternally horny, unable to move his hands from Harry. But he’s proud of himself at the dreamy look on Harry’s face after the kiss.
“I’m not surprised that you woke me up from the coma, Draco. I bet that with a kiss you can also revive dead people.”
Draco chuckles, amused and pleased.
“I can’t say that I've considered it. What are you cooking?”
“Shepherd’s pie, and a chocolate and cinnamon cake.”
“I’m gonna lose my figure because of you,” Draco joked.
“Nah, we need a lot of energy to stand all this sexual activity. Are you sure that there’s not an incubus in your family tree?”
Draco pretends to be scandalised.
“Wow, who was it that assaulted me in the shower this morning?”
“It’s your fault! You were touching yourself provocatively.”
“I was soaping!”
The discussion continues between the laughter and groping while Harry finishes making dinner, and later they eat in the dining room. When they finish, they clear the table and sit on the sofa and to listen to a radio drama. On Thursdays there is always a mystery that is broadcast. Draco leans against Harry─he likes hearing Harry’s heartbeat in his ear, to feel Harry’s arm around his shoulders, and his hand stroking his neck and hair. And after two nights of dining out, this peaceful and intimate evening is perfect.
“Draco...”
“Mmm?”
“I just realised something.”
“The murderer? It’s that nurse, I’m sure that she used...”
“No, no...” Harry turns to look him in the eyes and Draco realises that Harry has a look of wonder and nervousness. “I just realised that I want this forever. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and have you to tease me when I cook, and sleep tight next to you every night.” Draco swallows, understanding what’s coming next, what Harry has promised to never say until he really feels it.
“I love you, Draco.”
No, he won’t cry, dammit, but it costs a world not to.
“I love you, too.”
Harry caresses his face with his fingertips, as if he was something delicate and precious, and suddenly he starts laughing and without warning, he pounces on Draco, kissing him until he is out of breath. Draco doesn’t know whether to laugh as well, or protest because Harry is sticking his elbow in his ribs or moan at the delicious kiss. But he does know one thing.
This is happiness.
Fin