Title: The First Three Years of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy's Relationship
Author: Cassis Luna
Word Count: 3,134
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made out of this.
Summary: The first three years of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy's relationship starts and ends with provocative staring.
Author's Notes: It's been more than two years since I last posted anything here but this one just had me coming home the other day and locking myself up for three hours to write. :'D; And can I just say that I missed FF and all you wonderful people here /sobs. Also this may also be titled as The HP/DM Fic With Way Too Much Horizontal Lines
The First Three Years of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy's Relationship
Potter is staring at him provocatively.
It is too obvious not to notice.
Or maybe not because it seems as if no one else has noticed. Not even his Weasel friends.
He thinks maybe he is nursing his ego too much. Maybe Potter is actually giving him death glares and not sensual ogles. Potter's face isn't that expressive so it isn't Malfoy's fault he can't tell the difference.
But Potter staring at him provocatively does things to his nether regions, so he is desperate to try.
He meets Potter's eyes.
The loo is just one corridor away from the function hall where all the important persons of the Wizarding World are gathered and Malfoy has his hand down Potter's pants.
No, actually, Malfoy has his hand down Potter's underwear and Potter looks really, really good writhing in pleasure like that.
"You really ought to refrain yourself from ogling so provocatively, Potter," Malfoy says, his smirk kissing the skin behind Potter's ear. "Especially in a room with all the big men."
Potter laughs breathlessly at that. "I only ogled provocatively when you responded," he whispers, a grin appearing on his mouth and amusement in his eyes. Coupling that with the lust apparent in his gaze makes Malfoy's mouth go a bit dry. "Before that, I was doing fine being subtle."
Malfoy snorts, lets go of Potter's cock and dives deeper, between his legs and groping between his arse cheeks.
Potter closes his eyes, throws his head back and moans. Malfoy internally cheers at the implication of Potter being a bottom. Just as well because Malfoy prefers topping.
"If you're done being subtle," he says, gently grabbing Potter's chin with his other hand, making him open his eyes. His eyes are glazed and unfocused; Malfoy's smirk is wicked. "Then take us out of here."
To his surprise, Harry follows immediately.
And to his home.
And Malfoy does not think it is possible to get more rock-hard than he already is, but that does the trick.
He has sex with Harry Potter that night. And it isn't all that dramatic as he thought it would be, having sex with the Saviour of the Wizarding World. He thought he would wake up the next morning with worries of what rumours the media would magically extract out of their arses or what sort of complicated problems sleeping with Harry Potter will entail, but instead, surprisingly, he merely wakes up with the worry of not ever being able to fuck Potter again.
And he also wakes up to an empty bed.
Which fuels that worry even more.
But not for long.
Because after five minutes of scheming how to get into Potter's pants again, he smells toast and eggs.
When he enters the kitchen, there is Harry Potter – Saviour of the Wizarding World, Auror, and Vanquisher of Dark Lords – in an apron.
When Potter sees him, naked in all his glory because clothes aren't important when faced with the smell of toast and eggs, Potter actually turns pink.
Malfoy decides that Potter probably does not have a lot of one-night stands, and that cheers him up immensely, because then it might not be too presumptuous of him to do this sex thing with Potter on a regular basis.
"I'm cooking, Malfoy -"
"Go on, by all means, Potter," Malfoy says as he kneels on the floor, pushes the apron aside and pulls Potter's pants down. "Don't let me stop you."
And he opens his mouth and helps himself.
Potter burns two eggs that morning.
Malfoy eats the burnt eggs.
It tastes like victory.
Malfoy has to leave after that. He has work after all. He tries to sound indifferent. Wouldn't do to have Potter think Malfoy has attachments to him.
If Potter looks a bit disappointed as they say their goodbyes, then maybe it is just his imagination.
They don't write to each other or communicate in any way whatsoever – until the next big function two months later.
This time, it is Malfoy who does the provocative staring.
Potter does not waste time.
They are out of the party immediately after Potter delivers his speech.
The next morning, Malfoy doesn't have that worry of not fucking Potter again because he wakes up to Potter riding him.
While fisting his own cock.
"Sorry," Potter says breathlessly, not sounding sorry at all. "I woke up to this –" He squeezes his sphincter muscle to emphasize his words. Malfoy gasps. "— poking me from behind."
Malfoy groans when he finally finds the voice to. "And you decided to take care of it yourself?"
"Didn't want to – ah! – wake you –" Potter grinds out and then grins down at him. "But now that you're awake, a little help would be very appreciated."
Malfoy's breath catches because what a pleasant surprise, Potter is unexpectedly seductive.
Malfoy pulls him down, turns them over, and fucks him hard onto the mattress.
Malfoy cooks breakfast that morning.
Potter is too sore to.
Malfoy leaves again after.
Potter does not attend the next function. Malfoy does not even need to ask to know why; every one is gossiping about it when he enters the function hall.
Apparently, Potter is on a mission and is not expected to be back until the next day.
Malfoy leaves the party early.
The next morning, Auror Potter appears on the doorstep of his Potions shop.
"Am I disrupting office hours?" he asks.
He still has his Auror robes on, dirty and gritty and torn in some places. One of the lenses of his glasses is broken. He has an open scratch on his nose and a broken lip, but also those soft eyes and sheepish smile that make Malfoy's breath hitch.
The OPEN sign hanging on the door is turned so that it reads CLOSED.
"No. Come in."
His flat is right above his shop and Malfoy takes Potter there without preamble.
Potter wanted to take a bath first but Malfoy shoves him against the wall before he can even ask where the bathroom is.
"I'm dirty," Potter says.
Malfoy replies by kissing him and directing Potter's hand to his crotch.
Potter does not say anything anymore.
"I'll cook dinner," Malfoy says after.
It is only after he has said that he realizes that he's actually asking Potter to stay.
Potter understands, even if Malfoy does not, and smiles against his collarbone.
The worry that he'll never get to fuck Potter again disappears after that.
It is replaced by the worry that Potter is going to stop visiting him in his shop.
Years will pass and that worry will never completely go away.
One day, as they both keep post in his shop, Potter tells him, "I have never understood Potions."
Malfoy snorts. "I wouldn't blame you. Severus was a righteous arse to you in class."
"I'll teach you," Malfoy says.
That night, when Malfoy comes up behind him and directs his hand to teach him how to swirl the bubbling concoction properly, he feels Malfoy's cock brush against the crease of his arse.
It all goes downhill from there.
Potter will never understand Potions.
A year passes.
Potter gets called for another mission.
Malfoy does not see him for two weeks.
He gets worried enough that he actually Floo-calls Granger.
Who does not sound that surprised to have Draco Malfoy suddenly call her after years of no communication to ask about the well-being of her best friend.
"He'll be back tomorrow, Malfoy. You'll know when he's back," she says.
Malfoy does not understand until tomorrow, when Potter appears on his door step again, still in his Auror clothes and bent glasses and a dislocated wrist.
Malfoy grumbles all throughout rubbing balm on Potter's wounds and thinks about asking Potter to quit, but then Potter says, lightly, amusedly, "I'm lucky my lover's a Potions Master."
Malfoy is too shocked at being referred to as Potter's 'lover' so he does not think to respond when Potter kisses him.
But when Potter pulls back, looks at him with eyebrows furrowed together and biting his bottom lip in nervousness, it is only then that Malfoy realizes that the thing eating up his heart is what they call happiness.
Potter becomes Harry then.
When Malfoy calls him by his first name for the first time, Harry actually pulls that stupid, surprised, and touched expression of his that Malfoy finds absolutely unbecoming of a twenty-five year old man.
But he finds himself relieved when he stops being Malfoy and starts being Draco to Harry too.
"Ron and Hermione knows," Harry explains when Draco asks. "Actually," he says, a sheepish smile on his face. "Everybody important to me knows."
Malfoys do not cry but that day, Draco veers dangerously close to proving that saying wrong.
Sometimes, when he thinks that Harry is asleep, Draco kisses his forehead tenderly and whispers, "Let me keep you."
Harry starts to stay at Draco's flat way too often that Weasley and Granger actually start addressing their letters there.
They fight sometimes, over the small things, but never for long. It always ends the next day with Harry going to his shop with flowers on hand.
Draco is more of a sucker for those apologetic eyes than for the flowers.
Draco owls his mother.
"Mother, Harry Potter is my lover. He makes me immensely happy. How is Paris?"
At the next function they go to, everybody notices the provocative staring going on between them.
The whole Wizarding World knows of their relationship by the time the night is done.
"Harry Potter Going Out with Ex-Death Eater?!" is the headline of the Daily Prophet the next day.
Harry is the first to wake and the first to see it, and thinks about incinerating it before Draco wakes up.
As he is weighing his options, however, arms wound around his waist and pull him against a broad, hard chest.
He feels Draco's smile against his ear as Draco murmurs, "Remind me to write Skeeter a commendation letter for choosing a very fine photograph of me."
Harry's laugh is relieved. "Don't. The thought of her going through various photos of you doesn't sit very well with me. You know she likes the younger men."
Draco laughs against Harry's lips.
Another year passes by.
A vigilante group is Harry's next assignment.
His first mission regarding that results in him coming home to Draco, cradling his bleeding arm.
Draco asks that he quit.
They get into a fight that night.
Harry leaves for another mission the next morning.
Draco wakes up to an empty bed.
There are no flowers for him that morning.
A week passes. Draco is worried sick.
He is worried that Harry may not be safe. He is worried that Harry may not be coming back. He is worried that Harry may not want to come back.
That worry that Harry will never show up on the doorstep of his shop again is back and it is back with its full force.
He is anxious and irritable and he snaps at his customers and it gets too much that he decides to close off his shop for a while.
A while ends up being two weeks.
He tells his customers that he is on vacation.
In truth, he lays in bed all day, torturing himself with thoughts of what may have happened to Harry, what will happen to the two of them now, and what will happen to him if Harry leaves him.
Three weeks that they do not see each other.
On the day that Potter appears, Draco is lying on his bed with a fever. He has not eaten for two days.
"You look horrible," is the first thing that Harry says.
It is not what Draco needs to hear.
"Leave me alone," Draco says, but it comes out as harsh and raspy and it reminds him that oh, right, he hasn't used his voice for nearly a fortnight now.
Harry tears up.
"You're the one who looks horrible," Draco wants to say, but he finds that it is hard to speak when you've got a bundle of Harry Potter hugging your abdomen and crying.
"I'm sorry," Harry's saying. "I shouldn't have left."
"You shouldn't have," Draco thinks, but does not say it. Instead, he pats Harry's head, tangles his fingers through his hair, and is just happy that he still can.
"I love you, Draco," Harry says. "I'm sorry. I'm not going to leave you alone."
Draco is the one that tears up next, because that is what he needed to hear and it is frightening how quickly and easily all of his insecurities and maudlin thoughts for the past three weeks disappear after the utterance of those glorious words.
He blames it on the fever.
Harry nurses him back to health.
Harry practically lives in Draco's flat for the whole week following their reunion. He cooks Draco's meals and gives him sponge-baths. Draco wonders why Harry even bothers because sponge-baths only lead to sex and sex requires sponge-baths after. It is a cycle, one that Draco does not mind very much.
Harry also opens Draco's shop and handles his customers.
Draco is convinced that this man is for keeps.
"You still haven't said you love me back," Harry teases him one cold night when he's better and Harry's better and they're better.
Draco rolls his eyes and takes a sip out of his hot chocolate. "I nearly starved myself to death out of spite because I was mad at myself for starting another fight with you. Doesn't that tell you anything?"
He is warmed when Harry's eyes soften but more especially when Harry sidles up next to him on the couch to kiss him.
"It tells me that I need to cook for you more. Can I move in? I'll pay rent."
It is one of those moments that Draco comes close to crying again.
Harry wipes away the moisture of his eyes with a bright smile.
Draco puts his hot chocolate down and pulls Harry close, lets Harry's arms encircle him, and rests his forehead on Harry's shoulder.
He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Just stay, Harry. That's all I need."
The arms around him tighten.
He smiles. "And your cooking. I need that, too."
Draco arranges for flowers to be owled to Harry Potter every day at exactly ten o'clock in the morning.
Harry kisses him every time and calls him a Hufflepuff.
Another year passes.
The first time that Draco bottoms for Harry is on Harry's birthday.
It has been a long time since he has bottomed, since he has never bottomed for Harry in the three years they have been together.
But it is magical and wonderful and Harry tells him, "I love you" over and over again in time with his thrusts and Draco has never felt so full and loved.
He kisses Harry and tells him "I love you too."
The next morning, during breakfast, Harry surprises him with a confession, "The first time I ever bottomed was with you."
It shocks Draco enough that he actually drops the fork and the scrambled egg that had been embedded on it to the floor.
Harry's smile is shy.
Draco feels love for this man coming over to him in waves, but the regret that comes with it is just as overpowering. He regrets not being gentle enough during that first night, even if Harry had seemed like he had enjoyed it immensely.
That night, Draco takes him again, but this time, he does it like he should have done during Harry's first time.
A month later, there is a lead in Scotland about the vigilante group. Harry has to leave again.
They do not fight this time.
Draco kisses him and tells him to be safe.
Harry kisses him back. "I love you."
As soon as Harry Apparates away, a Stinging Hex hits Draco's side.
Draco ducks inside his shop but they hit the windows with Reducto and glass is everywhere and his shop is ruined.
Draco fights back. It's three to one and he is badly wounded but at least then he finds out that the lead that Harry got must be fake because the vigilantes are not in Scotland; they are here.
Draco Apparates to the Ministry.
It takes Harry three hours to receive the news and get to where Draco is: St. Mungo's.
He rushes to Draco's side and he's got that stupid, teary expression on his face again and Draco kisses him before he can say something stupid like "I'm sorry" again.
"Shut up, Harry," Draco says. "The Aurors got them. I'll build the shop again. Move in with me again when I do."
Harry just nods against his shoulder.
Harry does not leave Draco's side after that.
After two months, they build the shop together.
"You've got your job back," Harry says when Draco sidles up next to him in their new bed in their new room. Harry pulls him close, inhales the scent of his lover's new shampoo, and sighs happily when Draco's arm find its way around his waist.
"I'll have to owl my customers that I'm open for commissions again."
Harry nods and buries his nose in Draco's hair, smiling when Draco's hand starts to slowly inch downwards towards his thigh. "D'you reckon your kind of customers fancy croissants and pastries?"
Draco's hand stops. "What?"
Harry plays with the hair at the back of Draco's head. "I bought the shop next door. I want to make it into a bakery."
Draco pulls back to look at him incredulously. "...What?" Then he grins. "Harry Potter, Auror-baker?"
Harry smiles obligingly at him. "Just a baker now. Since yesterday, actually."
The grin drops from Draco's face.
Harry is prepared when Draco tackles him against the mattress and kisses him.
"Why?" Draco asks breathlessly, eyes wide and shocked.
Harry circles his arms around Draco's neck and whispers against his lips, "I miss you too much when I'm away. Hard to concentrate on the job, you see." His smile turns wicked. "Especially when I think about you touching the sort of places that your hand was slowly moving towards earlier."
Draco laughs, free and happy and relieved, and makes love to him that night.
At the next formal dinner they go to, Hermione Granger-Weasley decides that she has had enough.
She glares at the two of them.
"Honestly. You are two grown men. Save the provocative staring for when you are in the privacy of your own home!"