So a year ago on tumblr, I noticed this insanely-awesome blog that had a cool name and had so much drarry. I remember being so nervous talking to her because I suck at conversation. Little did I know that she would not only turn out to be a total sweetheart but she would also become of my biggest cheerleaders. Her name is Sammie aka dreamydrarry both here and on tumblr (highly recommend you follow her blog).
Sammie, I knew I wanted to do a story to celebrate us being friends but I was stuck on what. Then I considered our EXTREME DISPLEASURE over Cursed Child (which I will NEVER EVER accept as canon) looked over one drarry artwork done by daastark, thus creating this little beauty. Hope you love it.
Sometimes It Takes Another Try
The scarlet red train engine was beautiful, a rich and bright color, smoke puffing out from the engine like a dragon. It was even more beautiful than he imagined it would be. More magnificent than all the dreams he had of this day since he finally gotten his Hogwarts letter, delivered by a house-elf during breakfast.
Draco imagined this moment so many times and now he was partially living it. Platform 9 ¾ was alive with boundless energy radiating from Hogwarts students, upper classmen meeting up with friends and exchanging stories of their summer, first-years like him about to start their own adventure. Parents smothering their kids with so many kisses and hugs, reminding them over and over to be on their best behavior, study hard, to write home. Pets in their cages tooting, crying, rattling against the bars as porters carried them and dozens of other luggage onto the train.
The only thing Draco didn't imagine was him being so nervous. Most of his day he dreamt about this and now he could barely hear the commotion over the blood roaring in his ears, his nerves rapidly bouncing around like they were about to explode any second.
Of course, the look in Father's eyes as he examined him didn't help.
Draco bristled at the cold lash in the command, standing taller. "Yes, Father."
His lips were pursed in a flat line, but he didn't say anything else. He reached into his coat pocket to retrieve his pocket watch, flipping open the lid. "Ten to seven. You best be on your way."
Heart pounding, Draco swallowed down a dry lump that grew in his throat. The lump eased a bit as Mother stepped forward, the soft smile in her ice-blue eyes comforting him.
"You'll be fine, Dragon," she assured. "I just know it."
He could tell from the look in her eyes she wanted to hug him, touch his cheek, kiss his forehead, but they were Malfoys and Father said public displays were beneath them.
He nodded and went on his way. He paused mid-step, looking over his shoulder, at the sound of his name.
Father's eyes were chips of ice. "Do not disappoint me."
He jerked his head once in a quick nod, then quickly walked over to the train, still feeling those cold eyes watching him even as he stepped inside.
Draco could have gone over to the Slytherin section, where he saw Blaise Zabini gathering up the rest of the pureblood children from their playgroup, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with their nonsense. When he saw Crabbe and Goyle looking around for him, he quickly retraced his steps, making a sharp turn around the corner.
Walking down the aisle, he peered over available seats but most were taken over by other students-Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindorks. He narrowly missed the youngest weasel-bee wandering around like a lost sheep.
Rolling his eyes, Draco walked over to the last cart. He peered inside, seeing there was a small dark-haired boy staring out the window, dressed in raggy clothes. Something about those clothes, that hair prickled his mind like a trickle. Curious, he pulled open the door and stepped inside.
Bright, blazing emerald-green eyes turned over to him, freezing him in place.
He should have recognized him by the cheap, oversized clothes that were better-suited for a baby whale. He should have remembered the terribly-shaggy, terribly-messy black hair that was in desperate need of a comb. Recalled his curiosity on how glasses so big could fit someone so small.
But then he saw the bright, big green eyes that sparked from the round-framed lenses. He saw the thick scar slashed across his forehead, partially covered by his hair that was shaped like a lightning bolt.
The boy he spent most of his life dreaming of meeting and crushing that dream in a matter of minutes. It wasn't until he left the robes-shop with Father did Draco realize what a complete arse he was. He was so excited to meet his idol, was so desperate to make him his friend that he thought he'd impress him by showing what a worthy ally he'd be, bringing up his name which typically brought up admiration, showing off his knowledge of Hogwarts and Quidditch. It was later did he realize that he came out stronger than he intended-much stronger.
And he was still staring at him like a ninny. Retrieving his fallen jaw, Draco cleared his throat and took another step. "Can I sit here?"
The boy-Potter-Harry-Harry Potter stared at him, his face unreadable. The longer he stared, the harder Draco's heart pounded. He could feel sweat gathering at his brows, pricking his hands.
Dear Merlin, what was he doing? What was he thinking? Of course, he wouldn't want Draco here. He wouldn't even want himself there after behaving like such a buffoon-
Draco blinked, stunned. For a moment he was sure his hearing went off. Or that his mind was playing a trick on him. Till he looked up and saw a smile, a soft and tentative but still very much real smile, curling the boy's lips.
Relief flooding into his body, Draco came in. Potter gestured at the seat across from him, but Draco noticed there was plenty of space at his own seat, so he decided to try his luck, sitting beside him. Thankfully, Potter didn't seem to mind, smiling all the same.
"You're Draco, right?" he asked.
The relief floating in his body froze to solid ice. For a spilt moment he considered denial, claiming that Potter must have confused him with someone else. But that was the way of a coward and Malfoys were anything but cowards. Plus, if he came clean, maybe there was a chance he could fix his mistake. Make up for his snobbish behavior at the robes shop.
"Uh," If Father were to see him now, his heir blushing and stammering like an imbecile, he'd hex him into the next century. "you remember me?"
Potter nodded. Draco immediately jumped in, the words slipping from his mouth.
"I-well, look, the last time we meet…I'm-I'm sorry I acted like that. Its just-I-there was something about you that fascinated me and I wanted you to like me. I tried to impress you. Then when I figured out who you were, I wanted to kick myself for making such an idiot of myself."
Potter was silent through his rambling. He blinked only once but didn't pull away to Draco's great relief. "It doesn't take that much to impress me."
Draco took a staggering breath, feeling like years have been restored to his life.
"Also," He spotted a light shade of pink streaking across Potter's cheeks. "I thought you were impressive."
Warmth buzzed around his face, filling his cheeks. Draco averted his eyes to fight off the flustering, though he felt a smile turning his lips.
"My father would skin me alive for saying this, but that big guy you were with," he confessed. "He was really cool."
Potter's smile blossomed, growing from a small bud into a full flower. "Yeah, Hagrid is awesome! He's a great friend." His smile then dimmed as he stared off into space. "My first one actually. I don't have that many friends."
"Same here." Draco confessed. It was then that he noticed the little distance between them. Somewhere down the line, he must have moved closer to him. Or maybe Potter was the one who moved. "Perhaps, maybe…we could be friends?"
The words were met with silence that unraveled between them like a thread, unfolding more and more. Draco's heart seized, fearing that he may have overstepped boundary. It was one thing to have a companion during the train ride, but being actual friends? Did he manage to make up for what happened? Was he too push-
"I would like that." Harry said.
Draco blinked once, twice, stunned, when realization hit that mind wasn't playing a trick on him. That he wasn't caught in another Boy Who Lived daydream. Harry Potter, the Harry Potter, the hero he admired growing up, the idol he dreamt of meeting a thousand times, actually said he would like to be his friend.
Just to be sure that this wasn't a dream, Draco offered his hand. "So friends?" He couldn't rid of the slight hesitation that slipped into his voice.
"Friends." Harry answered with a smile, accepting his hand.
A spark ignited as their hands touched, almost like magic. Draco decided right then there that was the start of a beautiful friendship.
26 years later…
Draco gazed up at the beautiful crimson train that was just as magnificent the first time he saw it. He almost felt like he was eleven years again.
Only this time he wasn't the one starting a new adventure.
Draco shifted his eyes over from his son, who was the exact doppelganger of his husband from his unruly black hair, light golden-tanned skin, and piercing bright-emerald eyes.
"What if I'm put in Slytherin?" Before that day, Draco never saw or heard even slightest hint of sheepishness touching his son. If anything he often saw it in the boy's brother, his fraternal twin brother standing beside him, fidgeting with the button of his robes as he studied the train.
Harry kneeled in front of the boy, the golden band of his wedding ring sparkling underneath the bright sunlight. "Albus Severus Malfoy-Potter," he said. "You were named after two Headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I've ever known."
A small smile touched Albus's face.
A smile that mirrored the one curving his own mouth, Draco walked over to them, a touch of swagger pepping his step. "Not to mention, you are also the son of one of the greatest Slytherins to ever live. A brave, dashingly-handsome hero if I do say so myself."
Mischief, another trait Albus inherited from him, twinkled in Harry's eyes as he looked up at him. "I think your age is finally catching up with you, love. Last I checked, I was a Gryffindor."
Draco repaid the comment with a glare that promised vengeance. As vexed as he was by the comment, it did manage to break the tension hovering over the boys, Albus throwing back his head in laughter, Scorpius poorly attempting to hide his snickers.
"But," Harry continued. "if it's really means that much to you, you can choose Gryffindor. The sorting hat takes your choice into account." He looked over at Scorpius and reached for his hand, brushing his thumb over their son's pale skin. "The same goes for you. Slytherin or Ravenclaw would be lucky to have you, Cory."
Excitement beamed in Scorpius's eyes. It was no secret with his deep love for books, the way his mind soaked up information like a sponge, that the boy carried the traits of a Ravenclaw.
The whistle blared from the train, signaling it was time to go. Harry pulled himself and Albus off the ground. Draco brought Scorpius close to him, hugging him tight.
Albus was Harry's doppelganger, Scorpius was his. He was a miniature clone of Draco from his platinum-blonde hair, milk-white complexion, and the signature Malfoy-gray eyes. But where Draco's eyes were often guarded and cool when he was eleven, Scorpius's was open with bright curiosity.
And today they were leaving them. Tears pricked Draco's eyes; he attempted to soothe the burn by blinking them. The boys haven't left their side since they were brought home from the hospital and now they were heading off to Hogwarts.
He could tell from the sheer coming across Harry's eyes that he wasn't only feeling the weight of the sentiment. Harry held Albus close, dropping a kiss on his forehead, then reached over to drop one on Scorpius's head.
"Take care of each other." Harry said.
"We will, dad." Albus said. Scorpius nodded.
"And write daily." Draco tried to conceal his smirk as he saw the double eye-roll the remark brought along. "Three letters a week-from both of you-or we'll pay the Headmistress a visit."
"Father." Scorpius complained.
The whistle blared once more. Children were pulling away from their parents, waving goodbye, gathering up with their friends before entering the train. With great reluctance, Harry and Draco were forced to let their boys go and watch them catch up with their friend, Rose Granger-Weasley, before they all disappeared inside the compartment.
They stayed on the platform till the train took off, disappearing from sight. Harry sighed. Draco reached for his hand, linking their fingers together.
He smiled at him, pecking his cheek. "Ready to go?"
"Not yet," Draco replied. "There's still one more thing I need to do."
Draco kissed him, charging right in and claiming his lips before Harry could blink. By the time his mind caught up with what was going on, cupping Draco's face and eagerly responding back, Draco pulled away, satisfied at the outraged cry that escape his husband's lips.
Harry glared at him, his face flustered. "Tease!"
"Consider it payback for the old comment," He smiled charmingly at him, offering his arm. "Shall we go home?"
Nineteen years and the word still caused a pleasant shiver.
Harry rolled his eyes half-heartedly but accepted the gesture all the same.