Rating:PG-13 (for language)
Summary:When Draco leaves for an internship, Harry finds himself in a sorrowful, reckless mood.
Warnings:Tattoos, slash, fluff
Note: A gift!fic for kjp_013, who asked for tattoo, and also for brinimc, who is deserving of much GLOMPAGE. Enjoy, you two!
"Don't leave without saying goodbye," Harry mumbled sleepily, clutching Draco closer.
Draco sighed, rubbing small circles down Harry's spine. "I'm leaving at five in the morning, I don't want to wake you up so early—"
"Please, dragon," he whispered, his mind drifting into dreamland. Harry had called Draco his dragon since the first night they'd made love.
Just before he faded to sleep, he heard a soft murmur in his ear. "I love you, Harry."
Harry woke up the next morning, trailing his hand across the bed. Sitting up with a start, he blinked his eyes open and looked around anxiously.
"Draco?" He called out.
The Head Boy's room was empty with its owner gone, all of his suitcases with him. His chest compressing, Harry felt his throat close up when he realized Draco had left without saying goodbye, even though Harry had told him not to.
He fell back on the soft bed, curling the blankets around him. Suddenly, he saw a small square parchment fluttering on the pillow next to him. He picked it up, but couldn't read it because everything was blurry. Throwing his arm out, he half-heartedly searched for his glasses on the nightstand.
Finding them, he slipped them on and read the note.
I know you're angry with me because I didn't wake you up to say goodbye. I just…I can't do it. I'm horrid at saying goodbye, and you should know that by now. It was hard enough for me to leave just seeing you sleeping so peacefully. It took everything I had not to undress and just forget this stupid internship and get back in bed with you.
I can't do that, Harry. I have to do this—for myself. Right now, I am nothing but a former Death Eater and current boyfriend of the Saviour. I have to make a name for myself, and I know you'll be proud when I do.
I'll see you in three weeks—we can do this. I know I can't contact you, considering I'll be inSiberia, but I will think of you every second of every day that I'm gone.
Just don't forget about me, okay?
Harry couldn't help it. Tears fell from his cheeks as he clutched the parchment close to his chest, curling up into Draco's pillow, where his scent seemed to haunt him.
"Harry, come on, only two more weeks to go!" Ron said, punching Harry in the shoulder. He was trying desperately to cheer up his best friend, who had been so melancholy; it was affecting all of his friends. "Before you know it, the git will be back and annoying the hell out of me."
"Ron…he's all the way out in Sibera! What kind of Potions maker lives in fucking Siberia, the only place in the world where owls and Floo calls can't reach?" Harry ranted. "I'll never even know it, if something happens to him out there."
"What's going to happen to him?" Ron sighed. "He's on internship for Potion Making under Von Strout. He's not killing vampires in Transylvania, you know."
"I know, but still! What if…Merlin, what if one of their potions blow up and he doesn't know until it's too late—what if he accidently gets some sort of poison on his skin and develops leprosy! What if—"
"Harry! You're killing me here. Shut up, okay? Nothing is going to happen to him! I'm sure he's just sitting in a cold little dungeon, making some pepper-up potion and wishing you were there."
"Maybe I should be there. Why am I here?" Harry looked around the Hogwarts grounds, cursing the perfect blue sky. He and Ron were walking around the Lake after their Herbology class, while Draco was probably freezing his perfect arse off in Siberia. "I don't need Hogwarts, I could just go—"
"I am seriously going to slaughter you," Ron punched Harry again, this time in a not-so- friendly way. "Draco got leave from classes because Von Strout sent McGonagall a letter, excusing him. What excuse do you have for missing two weeks of classes? You're lovesick and missing your lover? That's not gonna fly, mate."
Harry had that silent/moody expression back on his face.
"Don't even think about it. Hermione will kill you—then come back and kill me, because I didn't stop you. Plus, when you get to Siberia, Draco will kill you. He told you not to do anything stupid or reckless while he was gone."
"I wish everyone would quit treating me like I'm some kid! I can make my own decisions! If I want to do something stupid or reckless, then I'm going to fucking do it!"
With that, Harry strode away in a huff, leaving Ron to curse and kick at the ground. Sometimes, it sucked being the best friend to the most powerful wizard to have lived.
He found the book in the restricted section of the library, where the 8th years were now allowed to visit for one hour every week. Knowing his hour was almost up; he quickly flipped through the book and found it.
Something rather reckless, indeed.
Copying the spell down on a scrap of parchment, he replaced the book and left the library, going down to the Quidditch locker rooms. No one was there, considering that Quidditch didn't start back up for quite a few weeks yet.
Pulling out the enchantment, Harry sat in front of the mirror and took his cloak and shirt off. He charmed a reversal spell on the mirror first—he certainly didn't want to mess it up, knowing it was 100% permanent with this certain spell.
Taking a deep breath, he repeated the spell from the scrap of parchment and his wand glowed and the tip turned bright red. Harry touched the tip to his chest, right above his heart. Gasping at the searing pain, he used his wand to draw out a name, leaving black marks where he wrote.
When he was done, he grinned in the mirror, wiping sweat from his brow. It had worked brilliantly.
"Just five more days," Hermione sighed. She leaned against Ron and read her Transfiguration book for probably the tenth time.
"I know," Harry grumbled. "Sometimes, I think you both are more anxious for him to come home than I am."
"I just don't want you to be all grouchy anymore," Ron shrugged.
"I'm upset that you're upset, and I miss Draco as well. Plus, I have to pick up all of his Head Boy duties too, since I'm Head Girl."
"I'll tell him you said that," Harry grinned.
"Oh! No, that's not what I meant!" Hermione gasped, putting her book down. "I miss him for more than just that, and I don't mind doing his duties—"
"Hermione, I'm just messing with you," Harry laughed. "And look, I'm fine, okay? He'll be back soon and everything will be back to normal. Plus, when we graduate, people will be lining up to offer him a job, and we'll both be happy he did the internship by then."
Hermione looked at him curiously. "That's quite a mature response, Harry. I'm proud of you."
"Yeah, well. Mature adult and all that," Harry shrugged. "I think I'm going to go take a walk…"
"You want me to come with?" Ron asked, preparing to get up from his spot on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room.
"Nah, you both relax. I'll be fine," Harry said.
Harry walked around the Lake, yet again, miserable and lonely without Draco. Stupid Von Strout, having to live in Siberia.
Looking down and opening a few of the buttons on his shirt, Harry grinned when he saw the now-familiar tattoo resting on his chest. He flexed and it moved, wiggling around and tickling Harry slightly.
Harry turned around at the shout, seeing no one on the deserted grounds. It was lunchtime and everyone was either in class or eating lunch in the Great Hall by now. He was even thinking about going inside and joining his friends for lunch.
"Harry!" He heard again. Narrowing his eyes, he saw a small figure appear on the other side of the grounds, where the Hogwart's gate was.
Gasping at the sight of familiar blond hair, Harry watched in shock as his boyfriend was running towards him, waving enthusiastically.
"Well this is weird… I'm hallucinating." He murmured to himself. "I wonder…is it a side effect to the tattoo?"
"Harry! I got back early!" Draco was gasping. "I'm back!"
It took Harry a few more moments of watching before he realized that it actually wasn't an hallucination.
"Draco!" Harry took off in a full sprint, running down the hill and towards Draco.
This is like a scene from those old Muggle romance films… long lost lovers running towards each other and embracing, claiming their eternal love for each other, Harry thought with a snort. Great, his life really was like a movie.
Meeting him halfway, Draco suddenly jumped, and Harry's knees buckled from their combined weight. Before they even hit the ground, their lips met in a teeth-knocking kiss, both of them out of breath from running; their hearts were racing and their hands pulled each other closer than possible.
"Don't leave ever again—"
"I couldn't stop thinking about you—"
They collapsed, laughing ridiculously and muttering half-completed sentences that were halted by more sweet kisses.
"Harry," Draco gasped, letting go of Harry's hair and resting his head on his chest.
"How did you come back five days early?" Harry asked.
"I made all the potions that Von Strout gave me in record time—I think he was impressed that I could do it faster and make them better than even he could," Draco grinned, looking up. "He said I could go home. Look! My certificate!"
Draco sat up, pulling his knapsack forward and handing Harry a rolled-up piece of parchment.
"Wow, you're a certified potions-maker now. My big-shot, too cool for Siberia, legitimate Potions master, boyfriend," Harry laughed, pulling Draco in to another searing kiss.
"I know! And the best part was—he offered me a job in Siberia," Draco said.
Harry's hands fell, the certificate rolling away from them. He blinked at Draco, and then turned away, gritting his teeth.
"Right. Yeah, sounds like a good job offer—you'd be under a real professional…people will always buy your potions and—"
"Harry, stop!" Draco chuckled, pulling Harry's face back to him. "I turned him down."
"What? Why?" Harry asked, secretly pleased beyond belief.
"First, I only got excited by his offer because it means a lot more Potion masters will want to offer me a job too—people in England, so it won't be a world away. Second, why would I ever take a job in Siberia? Do you think I could live without you?"
Harry grinned, his whole body feeling as light as a feather.
"So…you'll never leave me again, right?"
"Unfortunately, you're stuck with me." Draco smirked. "Sorry 'bout that."
"I'm not," Harry laughed. Kissing Draco again, Harry felt his heart jump rapidly.
"So what did you do while I was gone?" Draco asked. "Anything interesting?"
Harry's eyes widened and he shrugged, aware now of his still-unbuttoned shirt. "Well… er—"
"What's that? You've got some dirt on your chest—" Draco was saying as he moved Harry's shirt out of the way. "Oh! That's…not dirt."
"Nope. It's not dirt," Harry said nervously. "I—"
"You got a tattoo?" Draco pushed Harry down and straddled him, ripping his shirt away. "What the—is that…oh Merlin."
Written in dark black ink were the words:
Draco looked up at Harry, his eyes shining. "You got my name tattooed above your heart? With a binding spell? Harry…this will never come off."
"It doesn't need to ever come off. I'm going to wear it proudly for the rest of my life—you own my heart, Draco."
Draco leaned down and gave Harry a kiss—this one much more soft and endearing—and trailed his fingers around the lettering. "It's in my handwriting…how'd you manage that?"
"I copied it exactly from the note that you left…pretty easy once I got the mirroring spell down. I was going to draw a dragon, but we both know how much of a shitty artist I am," Harry laughed.
"Harry, I…I don't know what to say," Draco said helplessly, looking down at Harry with the softest expression that Harry had ever seen on his face.
"Just tell me you won't ever leave without saying goodbye, again."
"How about I just never leave?" Draco chuckled, bowing his head and kissing the tattoo. "I am yours, after all."