written for the QLFC training camp game, from S2 R12 —

prompt: SEEKER — The Little Mermaid

WC: 1364

a/n: i had no idea what to do for this but i remembered this drarry little mermaid i saw and got inspired, so i went searching for it again — it's by convallarias-art over on tumblr, go check it out

. . .

Draco finds the man on Laguna Beach when he least expects it.

He's making his rounds around the beach — as Prince, he likes to do it, and it gets him away from his father, King Lucius — when he hears a little groan; soft, pained, moaning, "Ahhh..."

That voice sounds so helpless and so in-need that Draco — well, it's his duty to help him, being Prince of the Laguna Beach and all. It would be terrible if Draco didn't help the owner of that voice — especially since he shouldn't be thinking it's sexy because the person is dying, damn it. But it's a sexy voice, and he can't deny it.

Stop being so stupid and help the person who's drowned! he berates himself.

Draco tries to flop over to the figure huddled on the sand as best he can with his merman's fins, and he kind of manages to hobble in the general direction of the groan.

After much laboring and flopping and grunting and awkward positioning of his tail, Draco finds his way at the side of the figure who is now revealed as a man and very very sexy. With that messy black hair — currently wet and plastered all over tan skin — and that scar. It's very unusual, a lightning bolt, but something about it reins Draco in for no apparent reason; he just loves it.

You need to stop mooning over him, Draco reminds himself. Get the water out of his chest!

So he takes his arms and pumps them into a sort-of demented two-handed fist, then pushes down on the man's chest and his wet shirt sticking to him; Draco can see his chest and those abs but now is a time to focus on keeping this vision alive because damn, he's the Prince and it would be a shame to have this man leave before his time's up, because look at that body.

Draco pushes and pushes and pushes and tries to get the man breathing again; he's rewarded a few minutes later when he hears a resounding gasp and the man's eyes shoot open — the first thing Draco notices about them is that they're a brilliant emerald green.

He pants for air, but croaks out a few moments later, "Who — who are you?" as he looks at Draco, taking in his fins.

Draco's suddenly struck by his situation: this mystifying, beautiful man with the green eyes is washed up on the shore of his beach and he can't even say anything to him because he's human. He has legs. The legs Draco doesn't have — the legs Draco so desperately wants.

There's nothing for Draco to say — what should he say? "My name is Draco Malfoy?" No, that sounds stupid. "No one" is not a good response either because obviously Draco exists and is someone.

"No one of consequence," Draco settles on finally, and then cringes at the man's questioning look with those amazing eyes.

"What are you — obviously you are someone of consequence!" the man splutters after a moment. "You're a damn merman!"

"Which means," Draco explains patiently, "that I am of even less consequence. I'm not human like you." The man softens at that for some reason. "So don't worry about me — I'm just going to swim on back and you can be on your way to your land and your amazing food and — you know, I'll leave now."

"But —" The man looks appalled. "I don't even know your name! You — saved my life. And you're just going to swim on down back in the ocean?"

Draco has turned around to leave, flopping toward the shore, but looks back at his words. "Draco," he says quietly. "My name is Draco."

The man smiles a little, and that warms Draco's heart a lot. With that same slight smile gracing his lips, he murmurs softly, just as Draco is about to leave, "Harry."

Harry, thinks Draco, and smiles too. He jumps into the sea, remembering that smile and that skin and the brilliant green of his eyes.

. . .

The problem is Draco can't stop. He can't stop thinking about Harry with his black hair and the way it plasters itself to his beautiful tan skin and about the way that Harry'd looked at him with those bright green eyes and it kind of makes King Lucius mad.

Especially since Draco won't tell him that he's thinking about a human since — aha! — Lucius hates humans and has a lifelong ambition of feeding them all to the sharks.

That complicates Draco's little crush by quite a bit. By quite a bit Draco means a lot.

Also, he's not sure how Lucius would feel about his crush on a male human. He might've tolerated a merman or a female human but a male human? That's pushing all of his buttons.

Wonderful, then. Draco loves pushing his buttons.

And he needs to see him again.

"Uncle Severus, please. I need to — I need to get some legs, only for a day! And see this guy again and hopefully do something so I can forget him!" he pleads.

Severus sniffs at him like Draco, you need standards. He sighs, though, and says, "You can't just get legs for one day. Legs are forever. If you're going to want them you're going to keep them," he explains. "And if you're going to take legs you're going to take this damn man as well. Don't do things halfway." He sneers.

This is why Draco's dad picked Severus as his advisor.

"Where — where can I get legs?" Draco asks him. "I need to leave. This place — it's stifling. Dad hates everyone but mermaids and mermen and he doesn't let me go out — he'd freak if he found out I saved a human on my patrol. I can't live like this. I'm sorry I've got to leave…"

"Shh," murmurs Severus. "I know. I get it." He looks at Draco, as if assessing if he's sure about this leaving thing. "Find the cave, the one where your Aunt Bella lives, and tell her to pass on the message to your mother...she will give you something and deliver you to the shore...and then you can go get your man."

Draco sits up from his position in the corals. He swims over to Severus — for what may be the last time — and says, "Oh, thank you so much, Uncle! I really —"

"Say no more," Severus says. He gives Draco a look that says, It's all right.

. . .

Aunt Bellatrix is a woman with heavy lids and dark hair and a dark visage to boot; she hands him an equally dark-looking potion from outside her dark cave and says, "Any last words?"

"Tell my father I'm sorry," Draco decides. "And my mother that I'll miss her."

"Very well then." She gestures to the potion. "Drink up, Draco."

. . .

Draco finds himself on the beach with new, long, pale legs. It's odd, and he spends a full few minutes stroking them and figuring out how to use them and walk.

When he does, he goes first thing to a store and gets some underwear and pants and shirts. He literally buys his entire wardrobe from that H&M store; unrepentantly, too. Their clothes look quite good.

Then he tries to ask around the little fishing village around Laguna Beach — who is Harry? The one with the scar and the black hair and the green eyes?

Eventually he is directed to the Weasley residence where Harry apparently works. It's a long building, a little rickety, but it looks homey and cozy.

Draco knocks on the door.

Harry answers it.

"...Draco?" he asks as if he can't quite believe it's the man who saved him.

"In the flesh," Draco answers. "I got legs for you."

Harry looks down at him, and his eyes well up inexplicably with tears. "What? You'd do that — for me?"

Draco smiles. "Only for you."

Love is a crazy, crazy thing. You save one person and you're a fish out of water for them the next day.