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Draco,

I hope you don't mind me calling you Draco - the Potter/Malfoy thing reminds me too much of my teenage years and wasn't that just a picnic. Anyway, I’m writing because every attempt to actually talk to you since the start of the school year has been sidelined by someone or something. The sheer volume of work involved is beyond anything I imagined. Being the Defense teacher is, surprisingly, very different from my time running the DA. I dunno about you but my students seem to love getting detention, the grading and lesson planning is driving me spare and, Merlin, the staff meetings. I thought Binns was bad as a teacher. I know you agree with me on that, we had matching eye rolls yesterday.

I know I can be oblivious sometimes but after weeks of trying to talk to you with no luck, even I’m not that thick. So, after watching closely, I convinced Minerva a meeting was needed for something or other and that led to quite an interesting conversation and that prompted me to try writing.

We’ve been managed, manoeuvred, manipulated etc. etc. Given the fact that people have been doing that my whole damn life, I’m not happy about it. Her intentions were good, I know. She was trying to help as were our fellow professors but bloody hell, it just rankles. They were concerned that with our past, it would be best if we were just kept apart to settle in, to get past these first few months without a confrontation or whatever the hell it is they thought we’d do. I, for one, have had enough fighting to last a lifetime. Once you’ve died, the rest is just meh.

So anyway, I was thinking this over. I mean, this deserves retribution, right? Something fun, something devious, some way to thumb our noses at the collective. I was thinking about the options and thought that perhaps you might have some ideas as well. I’d love it to be bold, creative and high profile. My first thought was to go to the Welcome Back Ball together, like as in a date. Think about it: coordinated outfits, public displays of affection, dancing. What do you think? I’m open to other ideas. I can’t imagine a better co-conspirator than you and look forward to your response.

Harry

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Dear Potter Harry,

Calling you Harry is still a little odd to me, but in the interest of professional cooperation I’ll give it a try. My apologies, I’m not sure why you are so hell-bent on speaking to me. You’ve hardly shown any inclination before…I suppose I’m wondering why you care? Not that I’m complaining, I’ve always craved your attention

As to your students proclivities for landing themselves into trouble, I’m not sure what you expected. Children are monsters. Did you forget everything about our years at school? The threat of detention never kept us in line either. Although, I can’t imagine why you have difficulty maintaining order. Perhaps Arithmancy isn’t as fascinating a subject as Defence. I suspect it inspires much less “enthusiasm”. How could it not when taught by the great Professor Potter? Anyone would be a bit starstruck. I however manage to retain control of my students and my grading, as well as other duties, Quidditch for one.

I never expected that I’d one day find myself in charge of the Ravenclaw team, but they needed a coach. My Slytherin roots will never leave me, but that said, I now have two teams to root for to destroy Gryffindor. And trust me, we will. Calcagno is an excellent keeper and I’ve taught Piper some of my finest moves. I may not have beaten you in school, but this is the year Gryffindor goes down.

I can’t deny that Binns is just as intolerable now as he was when we were children. I secretly suspect he elongates staff meetings with his droning to see if we can actually die of boredom, thus becoming the start of his very own ghost teaching army to join him in his misery.

We agree on very little Potter Harry, but for once we have found common ground. I can’t abide people interfering in my life. I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime. I’m sorry they’ve tried to keep us apart. Frankly being able to see you but not interact with you has been driving me spare. I hadn’t noticed.

I don’t know why they’d be concerned. I sit only a few places down from you at the head table and I’ve yet to launch a chicken breast in your direction, although I can’t say it hasn’t been tempting. Honestly Potter, could you please have a modicum of decorum and wear proper robes to the table? Jumpers and denim may make you look like the “cool teacher” but perhaps your delicious arse on display isn’t that’s why you have such difficulty maintaining order in your classroom.

That said, I should thank you for your note. I’m always for thumbing my nose at authority, but I’m not quite sure what you mean… Are you asking me on a date? You know who you sent this to right? I mean, I know how much you want to annoy the others, but I’d think being forced to endure my company, let alone pretend to like me would be too much even for you. Besides, if you think keeping up with classes, grading, and other duties is hard, I can assure it is a walk in the park when compared to the challenge that is keeping up with me.

Sincerely, Draco Malfoy

P.S. I noticed that little gang of students that gives you so much trouble is very partial to beans on toast with their breakfast. Did I ever tell you I once invented a tricky little spell that causes gas released from the body to take the form or rainbow-coloured singing bubbles? That of course is neither here nor there. Anyway, I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow. I hope you have an enjoyable morning.

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Draco,

If I’m honest, I’ve called you Draco in my head since seventh year, though I’ve never had the guts to call you that to your face for fear of being hexed.  I appreciate the effort on your part. I just really wanna move forward, you know and well, hmm, the truth is, I had a lot of shit to sort out after the war and I guess I wasn’t ready before.  Seeing you here all the time has reminded me of the years I spent stalking you we spent in school and I’ve wondered if we could be friends without the evil shite going on every day.  You’ve always fascinated the hell out of me .  

Laughs, you’re right of course.  Detention never stopped me stalking your fine arse all over the castle doing whatever I wanted or thought I should.  I guess I just never spared my professors any thought other than to try and avoid them or stay awake after a night full of nightmares .  I’m not at all surprised that you maintain order in your classes being very familiar with the Malfoy glare given your commanding presence and obvious intelligence.

I was stunned when I heard you were coaching the Ravenclaws; impressed though.  I’ve no doubt you’re great at it - you were a challenging opponent and sexy as hell on a broom .  I’ve seen Calcagno fly and I agree on his skills.  Piper has some talent, no doubt, just needs some time.  Richmond is a promising seeker and the Olsens are killer beaters for Gryffindor so don't count us out just yet.  We can’t overlook Underhill’s seeker skills for Hufflepuff either. I watched him train the other day and he’s fearless.

Fuck, Draco, I was drinking tea when I read about Binn’s army and nearly choked.  That’s hilarious and I wouldn’t be surprised if he did have some kind of agenda. It’s not like the meetings aren’t already tough to sit through as it is - not to mention how much important stuff we could be doing with that time.  Things like kissing your extraordinary mouth grading papers or finding out if your hair is as soft as it looks flying.

Hmm, well, I realise I’m pretty low on your attention level, I’ll have to ramp up my efforts apparently so I appreciate you responding to this request.  I think Minerva was surprised how pissed I was but then, she didn’t know the extent of the controlling arseholes in my life until I explained - there are some things you just don’t share with the world, you know?

Apparently, they think we’re still the two teenagers we used to be.  I pointed out that we’re adults and are no longer being manipulated by power hungry wizards and perfectly capable of talking without mediation.  As for my clothes, I get distracted and run to make meals on time.  Plus, I didn’t grow up wearing robes and never got to choose my own clothes usually just don’t think about it.  I’ll make more of an effort, especially if it’ll make you think better of me cause I’ll do anything to get your attention .

Yes, I’ve met you and I’m a glutton for punishment looking for a new challenge, so yes, a date.  It’ll be fun and has the added bonus of really pissing off shocking people.  Seriously, Draco, I suspect you’re much more pleasant to be around than you want to let on.  High maintenance, no doubt, but at least I won’t be bored and fawned all over like so many others that I’ve tried to date.  Sometimes being “The Saviour” sucks. I mean, seriously, I hate all those fucking labels. It might be a challenge keeping up with you but at least you’ll treat me like a real person.  Let's make plans. It's a date!

Harry

PS: I'm really interested in learning the rainbow farts trick. Payback is fun.

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Keep your knickers on Potter! 

I only got your letter three days ago. Did you train this bloody bird to stalk me? She’s everywhere I go! Outside my classroom window when I teach, flying over the pitch during practice, yesterday I left the window open in my rooms by accident and when I woke this morning she was perched on my pillow inches from my face staring at me. It was terrifying, and I can hear you laughing damn you, but I’ll have you know I was so startled I nearly fell out of bed. I could have been injured! You think it’s funny now, but you will not be laughing when I tell Minerva that my injury is hampering my ability to perform all my duties and that as it was your bird's fault; you ought to pick up my slack. If I go down, you go down, Potter.                   

I’m sorry it’s taken so long to respond, but Ravenclaw has a match this weekend and—as you so aptly pointed out—Underhill isn’t to be underestimated so I advised Ravenclaw to double this week's training sessions in preparation. Not to mention the first match of the year tends to lead to more classroom chatter and generally unproductive merriment, which in turn leads me to assign more of my famous “punishment essays”. Although at this point, I’m not sure who I’m punishing, them or me. They only have to write the one, I have to read dozens of the damn things.

It also seems that some of our brilliant young charges have taken up a little prank war. I confiscated a series of rather amusing buttons that ridiculed the Ravenclaw players in flashing text that changed every few seconds… how very original. (If I find out you had anything to do with that, I will end you.) I swear all of this unbridled exuberance will be the death of me. 

Merlin save me, I’ve turned into Severus. Please don’t tell his portrait. I think he might die all over again from the smugness. Although, I suppose it could be worse...you may not have appreciated him, but apart from being one of the most intelligent wizards I have ever met, he’s also exceptionally clever and actually quite funny. After telling me off for getting caught riling you lot up, he pointed out a weak verse in “Weasley is our King.” In my defence, I had only spent about 20 minutes on it in the shower before breakfast that morning, so the first draft wasn’t my best work. 

God, I was brilliant.

Well, sometimes.

I suppose I’m not being completely honest when I say that being busy was the only reason for my delay in replying. If we are doing this, whatever this is, there is something I need to address. 

I’m sorry.

I was horrible as a child, truly awful, I hurt people to feel stronger and more in control of my own life. I never had very good role models, and so much of the time mostly I was just scared; scared of not being able to live up to the weight of the crushing expectations that had been heaped on me since childhood. My entire life I was told that I was superior and born to uphold and maintain a great and ancient line, while at the same time constantly reminded that I was a pitiful disappointment and a failure. It’s funny what that can do to a child. Not that it matters. It’s not an excuse. I should have been better, and for that, I apologise. 

Not only that but when I began to see the road I had been set on was not one I wanted to follow, I lacked the courage to do anything to take control of my own future. I simply froze. I shut down, hiding inside myself. I stopped taking responsibility, believing foolishly that my inaction caused no harm. I thought I could remove myself from the narrative. I am not brave, Harry. If I was, I would say these things to you in person, not send them in a letter from the safety of my rooms. For that, I must also ask your forgiveness. 

I like to think I have grown, but I do not pretend that I am not still in many ways deeply flawed. I can be petty, selfish, childish, vain, quick-tempered, mercurial, and vindictive. I am trying to be a better man, but I fail more often than I like to admit. If all of that sounds like something you still want in your life, you are truly a better man than I am. But that was never in doubt.

Would you like to sit with me at the match on Saturday? I think we could have a nice time discussing the game. I have one requirement. As my team has insisted (to the chagrin of some of my Slytherin students) that I wear Ravenclaw colours, you must as well. I assume you want to publicly show your solidarity with your esteemed colleague and the team he’s managing?

By the way, speaking of the Olsens, what is it with you Gryffindors! How do you birth so many sets of goddamn twins! They just make the best beaters, like two minds working as one. Ugh! Twins!  I wish I could get twins! Also, why do you always focus on the Seeker? It’s such a common oversimplification of the game. If you run the rest of your players right, you can actually have a profound impact on the course of play. I always wanted to be a Keeper, actually. Father didn’t think it was a position worthy of a Malfoy. 

Additionally,  this weekend is a Hogsmeade trip and I know you drew the short straw on chaperoning. It’s a shame about that. (Here’s a pro tip from a Slytherin: when Minerva asks all the staff members to write their names on a slip of paper to draw for it, write someone else’s name. She doesn’t check. I accidentally wrote the name of the person whose bird had caused me to become so flustered I forgot what I was doing.)  Anyway, as it happens, I have a few errands to run. Perhaps you would like some company and we can discuss the possibility of further payback to our meddlesome colleagues. And if we happen to stop in at Gladrags to replace some of your more atrocious jumpers, well, we can solve several of the school's problems at once. 

Regards, 

Draco Malfoy.

P.S. You are never learning my “rainbow farts trick”, as you so eloquently put it. I’m not so thick as to hand over the best weapons in my arsenal to wizards of dubious honour and allegiance. Not that it would do you any good against me; Malfoys possess superior digestive systems. But one can never be too careful. See you at breakfast Harry. 

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Draco,

I’ve no idea what you’re on about, I would never tell Hedwig to stalk torment tease pursue you until you responded. I will admit to laughing at your telling of it, though. I can just imagine your gorgeous posh face waking up to her staring you down. What can I say, patience isn’t a Potter virtue. Not that I’m admitting a thing!

I am glad to finally have a free morning to respond to your letter thanks to the second year field trip. I’m still chuckling at the “mishap” at breakfast and the look of abject horror on the faces of those little demons children that have so delighted in causing me trouble. The singing rainbow bubbles were brilliant, truly inspired, and I appreciate them so much. I did look over long enough to notice your sexy smirk you enjoying your breakfast, then denied any knowledge whatsoever when Minerva questioned me. I bet, though, they’ll think twice about their behaviour. Thank you.

I feel your pain on the whole homework for punishment idea. I hated it as a kid and was certain that it was a horrible thing for us.  It is, no doubt, a supreme torture as a Professor. I’ve been trying to come up with suitable punishments that don’t involve grading. I wonder if scrubbing the castle walls by hand or something similar would be motivating enough to encourage better behaviour. At least there’d be no grading involved. What do you think?

*laughs* yes, flashing buttons that ridicule. As you say, original, inspired no doubt by yourself. I assure you that I’ve had no hand in that little venture. Perhaps they heard about your attention-seeking decorative contribution to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, though certainly not from me. I would never!

I did come to appreciate many things about Snape in the end, despite my personal issues. I know you care about him and so for that reason alone I will keep your secret. It’s hard to imagine him with a sense of humour, though my mum liked him quite a lot when they were younger, so perhaps she saw more of the man you knew than I did. I’m trying to imagine him correcting that song and it boggles the mind a bit. I have to say though, if “Weasley is our King” is the level of your writing ability in the course of a short shower, what other hidden talents do you possess? And no, I’m not thinking about you in the shower, truly I’m not.

Yes, we are doing this, this being whatever we want it to be — starting with friendship. Ask me about the rest after Saturday. After this apology, there’s no doubt left about moving forward, at least for me. While I never asked for one or even expected one, I was surprised to find out just how much it mattered, how much it meant to hear it. Thank you for that. I considered just pondering what you wrote and talking to you on Saturday but then decided that no, I’d really like to be able to relax and enjoy our day, so I opted to think through my response and send it ahead of our meeting Saturday morning. We can always discuss it further, later, when we’re ready. 

I’m also sorry. Sorry for not realising just how tough things were for you. Sorry for returning your animosity with more of the same. I stalked you, pushed you, I nearly killed you, for fuck’s sake! That moment in the bathroom in 6th year haunts the hell out of me. I walked in expecting the worst and never even stopped to see your distraught face looking back at me. I was just so angry and lost. You needed a friend and I ripped you open. How do I even apologise for that? Sigh. Fuck, I’m sorry, Draco.

You know, Draco, as hard as it was being on the receiving end of your crap all through school, as an adult, I understand so much more than you might think. We were just kids, for fuck’s sake. Fighting for control, I understand. Trying to feel stronger too. Scared? Fuck, I spent half my life scared and the other half angry, so I get it. With all I’ve learned in retrospect, I think it’s remarkable you managed as well as you did. I knew nothing back then about ancient bloodlines and all that upholding the family honour thing — still don’t know a ton but I’ve seen enough to have a bit of an idea how much pressure that was as a kid. I’ve thought, especially recently, how differently things might have gone if you’d not insulted the first two friends I’d ever had and if I, in turn, had not rejected your friendship — we might have been friends.

To be fair, Draco, bravery is a hard thing to define. You stayed, tried to protect your family, when you could have run away. I know that much of what you did later was in an attempt to save them. I know about the small kindnesses you did for Luna and the others when they were kept locked up at the Manor. I know you saved my life and enabled me to help them by refusing to identify me and we both know you didn’t put up much of a fight when I disarmed you and took your wand. You did what you could, just like I did. Sometimes, that’s the best we can do and you have to let it be enough. I think you might be surprised if you knew the truth about my own fears and sense of failure. We aren’t so far apart as you might think — I daresay in some ways we can understand each other better than anyone else can.

I know you say if you were brave, you’d say all this in person, but if I’m honest, I’m actually glad it’s in writing, at least initially. As you may have noticed, I sometimes struggle in person, getting flustered and stammering my way through what I need to express. That’s why, if I have to speak in public, I prefer time to prepare. I need to write, collect my thoughts. Sure, I can do it impromptu, but it’s never easy or comfortable and we’ve needed to have this conversation for a while, So, thanks for bringing this up and giving us a chance to work through it. 

Role models, I had prejudiced, angry, abusive Muggles as my only role models until Hogwarts. So I totally get what being told “you’re a terrible disappointment” can do to a kid. At the time, it looked like you had everything good in the world in your hands and I was jealous. It was confusing, trying to understand how you could have so much and yet be so miserable. I’m truly sorry for the things I didn’t see happening to you. I couldn’t see past my own miserable childhood and the whole evil-arsehole-who-murdered-my-parents-and-is-trying-to-kill-me thing to have much sympathy. I like to think I’m a better man now; like you, I’m trying to be.

Whatever might remain to work out between us, I am more certain now than before that I want you in my life. I’m not better, I’m different. We are both flawed men who have damage and scars and reasons for our pasts. The true measure is where we go from here. I refuse to stay that frightened child locked in a cupboard no matter how tightly that tries to wrap me in its grasp you are no longer the child held under too much too soon. We both lost more than enough to that lunatic who lived in your house and my head. It’s time to discover who Draco and Harry are, on their own, and perhaps, together.

So, this Saturday? Sounds like a great day to me. My team will give me no end of grief over this, but yes, I will give up the Gryffindor colours to support you. Thank Merlin Ravenclaw is playing Hufflepuff. I’m not sure I could manage otherwise, not even for you. Under the circumstances, though, that seems a small price to pay to enjoy the match with you. I’m interested in hearing more of your thoughts about the team. You make a fair point with the focus on the Seeker. I know what you mean about the twins — it’s definitely an advantage. When we play next, perhaps you could return the favour and help me look at the team from a new perspective. It’s a shame your dad had so many rules for you — you’d have made a great Keeper and we’d likely have had more fun. Maybe we should put an amateur league together — I’ve always thought it’d be fun to be a Beater.

You sneaky devil, I just figured it was crap luck for me to be chaperone. But hey, if it allows me more of your company, I’ll take it. I can’t imagine a better partner in crime than you, so yes, it’s a date. If you’re nice to me, I might just let you help me choose some new clothes. If you aren't, I'll buy the most hideous jumper I can find and wear it as often as I can... you've been warned! In all seriousness, Merlin knows I could use your help with choosing some new clothes. I’m pretty pants at that stuff.

OK, I’m off to find some Ravenclaw colours and get some sleep. See you Saturday!

Harry

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Harry, 

Merlin, it’s still surprising that calling you that has become so natural so quickly. Eleven year old me would be so excited. I know it might seem odd that I’m still writing you rather than just talking to you, especially now that that is a thing we actually do. But I guess in some ways it’s like you said, it’s easier to say some things when I have time to compose my thoughts. You might have noticed, but when I feel cornered, or unsure, my first instinct is to say something cutting or sarcastic. Since what we’re trying to build here is so fragile, I’m afraid my defence mechanisms will ruin it. 

I know we both tried to talk about some of what we said to each other in our letters over lunch, but it appears it’s not just me that’s terrible at it. Hopefully we will improve with time. I just wanted you to know, it didn’t occur to me until you said it in your last letter that you were being manipulated too. I’m not thick, I knew you must have been scared, I knew it was hard. But I never stopped to realise, even after the dust settled and details about the war were released, that all the adults around you were moving you like a pawn in a chess game, but never letting you see the whole board. That was how I felt too. The difference is I was a pawn and you were a knight. I don’t know what's more frightening, knowing you are expendable canon fodder, or being the primary target. In the end I suppose it doesn’t matter. We both survived the game we never volunteered to play. All we can do now is make choices about what to do with the blemishes, the birthmarks and imperfections we were born with, and the scars we’ve acquired. You show me yours, I’ll show you mine. No promises on the outcome. 

I had a nice time this weekend. I’m not sure if I said it at the time, but when you showed up in all blue and bronze… I was impressed. Jewel tones suit you. Keep that in mind should you ever go shopping without my assistance. You would have made an exceptionally striking Ravenclaw. Pity you’d never meet the house’s basic intelligence requirements. Although if houses were chosen for their sartorial compatibility, you would have been stunning in Slytherin green, it would bring out your eyes. Besides, with your propensity for scheming to get your own way and general disregard for authority when it suits your needs, you might even have fit in with us. But alas, you had to ally yourself with that band of headstrong idiots that go charging in headfirst if they see something they want. My apologies… I meant daring and brave heroes who take risks to achieve their noble pursuits. At least it suits you. Speaking of daring and brave, the next match is Slytherin Vs. Hufflepuff. Up for a costume change Potter? I dare you...

Oh! I was grading that mountain of papers today when inspiration struck me! I say we outsource the punishment. Filch has been wanting to string them up by their thumbs in the basement for ages. (And before you say anything, yes I am deeply aware of how creepy that sounds. Do you think he knows what it sounds like when you say you want to string teenagers up in a dungeon? I’m honestly not sure...) But I vote chore brigade. “Piss me off and I assign you to Filch.” It has two functions, it would be horrible for them, and Filch will be so overjoyed he may actually become easier to work with. Alternatively, I think we could weaponise Binns. I know what you’re thinking, they’ll just goof off and ignore him like they do in class. But! That’s where the dual combination of full body binds and Wideye potions comes in. They will be immobolized and awake, they will have no choice but to sit there and liten. I have just solved student disobedience, you may now bow down to me. You are welcome. Do you think we can get Minerva intoxicated enough to agree to it? My hand is beginning to cramp from marking these asinine papers.

Speaking of student disobedience, a little birdie told me that you know how to get into the Shrieking Shack, It sounds like my kind of adventure. I love exploring secret places. When I was growing up in the Manor I was constantly traipsing about the gardens, digging through crates up in the attic, poking about the cellar. I also became quite adept at hiding so I could prolong my adventures and avoid getting dressed for stuffy parties. I took quite a few...forceful punishments from Father for it before Mother placed a tracking spell on me and linked it to a floorplan of the Manor.

I was so proud when I discovered the Room of Hidden Things. I wasn’t always up to nefarious business in there, I’ll have you know. Sometimes I just liked to poke about in the trunks and drawers, finding hidden treasures. Maybe you and I can do our curfew rounds together and see what other secrets we can discover in this castle. If I recall, you have a particular penchant for poking your nose about where it doesn’t belong. 

I had a surprisingly pleasant time with you in Hogsmeade. I honestly didn’t expect that talking to you would be so easy. Also thank you for allowing me the opportunity to do my part for society and help you replace some of your hideous jumpers. I’m expecting my Order of Merlin in the mail. I just wish you weren’t so stubborn. You are so used to wearing ill-fitting clothing I don’t even think you know what size your clothes are supposed to be. But I will say, that at least your new pieces are stain and tear free. Now, do me a favour and please don’t wear them for pickup Quidditch or while demonstrating practical spellwork in the Forbidden Forest. Kindly ruin your hideous things, or better yet, someday soon we can pick you up some sturdier wear for those occasions. Also, thank you for indulging me, not many people have the patience to let me dress them up and throw garments at them like a life-sized doll for hours. I wouldn’t mind going into the village another time with you, maybe without the burden of herds of children behaving like they’ve never been outside before. I don’t care what you say. I was never like that.

But look, Potter, I know, or rather, I don’t think I misunderstood you when you intimated that you possibly wanted to pursue something more than friendship with me. I still don’t understand why. I feel like I should be honest. I had a really lovely time with you and I want to try and cultivate a friendship, but I don’t think anything more is a good idea. You have no idea how much I want. You probably don’t see it, you aren’t the most perceptive fellow, but even in a small, fairly insulated community like Hogsmeade, when you tried to take my hand people whispered behind their hands about us having a drink together. Hogwarts is a relatively safe place for us to do what we want, and people will understand colleagues of the same age finding things to connect about. But out in the real world, especially if you wanted to try for more, it just won’t be tolerated. I think we’ve both been through enough. There are plenty of great men out there that will be thrilled to have you, Harry. I know you’ll find someone to make you happy, who will love you like mad, and that you can live in peace with. You deserve that after all you’ve been through. I wish it could be me that I could at least try But don’t worry. I’ll still be around to be your partner in crime at school. I think your idea for an amateur league is a great idea—I’ll ask around, I’m sure we can find at least twelve other people. See you around.  Your Friend, 

Draco Malfoy

P.S. In the accompanying package is the purple button up top you said was too tight. I disagree, and when it comes to fashion, I am always right. I ordered it when you weren’t paying attention. Do yourself a favor, wear it the next time you go out looking to meet someone or on your next hot date. Trust me, I’m doing some very lucky man a favour. 

P.P.S I assume that when you received this letter you immediately gave Portia a treat. Kindly look around. Do you see her anywhere? No you don’t. Because she is a well-behaved and delightful creature who exemplifies owlkind. Please take notes. 

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Draco,

I’m really glad we are continuing the letters while we try and learn to communicate with each other. As you say, this is fragile and between your defensiveness and my shutting down, we struggle. I have faith it’ll improve as we spend time together. We just have to be patient and in the meantime, these letters are helping.

Before I go on, let me apologise for taking a few days to respond. You made some valid points in your letter that, while I immediately wanted to just dismiss them as unimportant, the reality is that they are important and deserved my careful consideration. More on that later - I’ll respond to your lovely letter first.

Thank you for the compliment about my Ravenclaw outfit - I rather liked the look myself. People assume my favorite colour is red but in fact, it’s blue. It calms me, like a summer breeze or the ocean. It’s interesting to think back to first year and realise how close I came to being sorted into Slytherin. I’ve wondered on occasion what life would have been like if I’d not argued for Gryffindor. As you say, it suits me. As for the match, I’ll wear Slytherin Green if it means I can sit near you and spend time with you, though I confess I don’t own much in those colours, so this will prove a bit challenging. I’m a brave man, however. My last fortune cookie said so. It’s a date!

The Shrieking Shack. Yes, I know how to get in. I’ve not been there since - well, since the war, but I’ll take you. I like exploring too - the thrill of the hunt to see what interesting things you can find. I can imagine you as a kid exploring and hiding and avoiding the posh things your parents tried to push you into constantly. I have something fun to share with you - to show you how I always managed to find you and other things I wasn't supposed to. *grins* it’s seriously cool. I’d love to share curfew rounds with you and the aforementioned object is actually super helpful for finding defiant students … or avoiding Filch. I’ve no doubt we could find interesting things to get up to and hidden corners to snog each other senseless in.

It was great fun spending the day with you. You’re very witty and easy to talk to and I am really growing fond of your company. You say your eleven year old self would be very excited - does that mean you’ve liked me since we first met? I wish things had gone differently then and we could have grown up as friends. I wanted friends so desperately. Ron was the very first friend I’d ever had and well, I was very protective. If only we’d been able to talk, really talk back then. Ah well, at least we’re here now, for which I’m very grateful. I suspect I’ve fancied you for a while, though admitting that or in fact, the truth of my own sexuality was beyond me until fairly recently.. I was certainly fascinated by you for most of my school years. 

I very much appreciate your help choosing some new clothes. I normally detest shopping but you looked so happy that it made it fun for me too. I’ve had several compliments on the stuff we bought already, so thanks. I’m always up for anything that lets me spend more time with you. When we let go of the past and just move forward, you’re so interesting to talk to and fun to be with that you make it easy. You say when and where and I’m there.

So, after careful consideration, I’m going to address your thoughts about us. Please trust me that I’ve thought this through repeatedly and am settled on my feelings about it all. I want to be clear, Draco. I want to try a relationship with you, a real relationship. I know it won’t be easy, I do get that, but I also understand that I am sick to death of having other people dictate my life. I don’t want safe or easy, I want you. You’re smart and funny and interesting and fit as hell and I can’t imagine anyone better for me, nor do I want to. I’m far from perfect - I’m a flawed man who is damaged in many ways but I’m growing and healing and I truly believe that I have enough to offer you to make this worthwhile, if you’re willing to be patient with my remaining struggles. As you said, blemishes, imperfections and scars; I’m willing to accept yours and care for you. I hope you feel the same.

I’m not as clueless as people like to think nor as easily manipulated. Not anymore, not since I fought to regain my independence and my sanity. If you decide that you don't want that, don’t want me, then I’ll have to accept that but fuck if I’ll lose the life I think we can have together because other people won’t like it. I was wondering if I should just beg you to give this - us - a chance, but I think I have to keep that option for later. So instead, I'm going to do this: Have dinner with me Saturday night, after the match, in my chambers. I'll cook for you - and I'll wear the purple shirt. It's a hot date and there's no one else I'd rather spend it with. And before you disagree, let me ask you one thing... Scared, Draco?

With hope, Harry

PS I have instructed my owl to not harass you. You might need time to think things over as I did. 

Chapter Text

You kissed me. 

I can’t believe you just kissed me. 

I’m just...I...I don’t know what to do. 

Nobody has ever done that to me before... Saw a moment, wanted to do something, and just gone for it. I... I’m speechless. 

One moment, we were rounding the corner near the portrait of Bridget Wenlock, and I was joking about her nearly-lost theorem and the irony that I once found a secret passageway behind it, and the next, I was pushed bodily against a wall and snogged within an inch of my life.

Nobody has ever been so eager to touch me that they just...pounced... 

I don’t... I don’t remember much, I think I made some fairly humiliating noises. I think I wrapped my arms around you, terrified that if you left you’d take all of the oxygen in the room with you.

When you put one hand on my arse wrapped the other around my neck, I didn’t know what to do. I just froze… I… nobody’s ever tried to devour me like that. I felt you against my hip and I was so… surprised. I didn’t think… I…

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you must be confused and worried. I didn’t mean to run off like that. 

I was so overwhelmed, and I wanted it so much it… it frightened me. I felt my hands suddenly tangle in your hair, and I heard you moan, and it was suddenly so real. Not just a dream, it was you, and you were there... and I... panicked.

I’m sorry. I think I made it all the way back to my rooms before I even realised I’d just left you there, arse on the floor, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and eyes searching and confused. 

I shoved you away and ran.

Merlin, I’m sorry. That’s why this note is so incoherent, I didn’t want to waste any time. I didn’t want you to think you’d done anything wrong. You didn’t. Merlin I hope you are in your rooms… Please be there to get this note. I had prepared my return letter, I just hadn’t finished looking it over, I must have rewritten it thirty times. I wanted to be certain I had said it all the way I wanted. But it’s too late, I’m sending it as is. 

Funny thing. We can send all these honest and vulnerable thoughts back and forth and then spend three nights of rounds together this week and never discuss my lack of reply to your letter. Heaven knows what was going through your head.

You took a leap of faith and I ran away. That’s twice now. Once in a letter baring your soul and making your intentions clear that received no reply, and once in a hungry, mind-blowing kiss that I fled from. I know what you must be thinking, but stop. It’s just complicated and new and I didn’t want to mess things up, but I think I just did anyway.

Fuck. I think I just ruined this. 

I’m sorry.

I’m such a coward. 

——————-

Attached Letter

Harry, 

If you wear that grey top I picked out for you, I’m sure any touch of green would do to complete the outfit for the match this weekend. I might have an old scarf laying about from our school days. I quite like the idea of you in my old school scarf. But honestly, you are such a shameless flirt. It doesn’t matter what you wear, you can always sit next to me. I thought that was well established by now. 

I can’t believe we’ve done two rounds together looking for errant students and patrolling the halls and I have yet to respond to your letter. You said you’d be patient, but I don’t know what to do or say around you anymore. Especially not when I secretly wish you’d snog me in a deserted corridor. So thank you.

I shall begin very simply. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT MAP? I know I played it off, cool as a cucumber, when you showed it to me, but it bears a striking resemblance to the one my mother made to track me when I was a wandering child, but its far more complex. The detail and magic involved in creating something like that is striking and, frankly, a little frightening. I wonder if Mother learned it from her cousin, or maybe they both learned the basics somewhere else? I didn’t say anything when I saw it at first, but my mother and auntie Andromeda loved cousin Sirius. I was taught not to speak of him, but I used to hear funny stories from the house-elves. I wish someone had been around to teach me that sort of mischief.

I want to go through every single passageway on that map—a member of my family made it after all. I’m entitled. Otherwise, I’ll tell McGonagall on you. 

Who am I kidding? I’m not going to tell the teacher. I’m much more creative than that when I want my way...

It does explain a lot about your ability to beat me back from Hogsmeade when I caught you out of bounds in third year. I thought I was losing my mind. Do you have any idea how long I spent trying to figure out how you’d done it? I had maps and graphs and equations. They were strung up on the walls of our dorm, I couldn’t stand that you’d got one over on me and I didn’t know how. I could handle losing when it made logical sense, but there was no mathematical or magical way you could have made it back before me. Blaise finally complained that my obsession was irritating and he needed to sleep so he lit it on fire. 

I don’t really want to talk about those days, and those Hogsmeade trips though. I prefer my most recent one.

Of course, I liked dressing you up. Who wouldn’t? It’s like you don’t know you’re bloody gorgeous and fit as hell!  I’ve always been good at fashion and clothing. Father taught me that the clothes make the wizard. I don’t think he expected me to put my skills to use as often as I do. I’m certain he didn’t think I’d be helping Harry Potter find suitable trousers. Or that I’d make him change trousers multiple times so that I could stare at his plush arse and blame it on a fitting.

You asked if I liked you since we first met. 

Harry, I liked you since before we first met. You were a story my mother used to tell me about a boy my age who was loved by his mother and was so special he saved the world from a bad man. I didn’t know what that meant, but I had a mother who loved me, and she said I was special, but I couldn’t save her from the bad man. 

My father, he told me that I was better than everyone else and that I should be like him, that there were some families that were better than others and it depended on their blood. 

When I met you, I wanted you to like me. My childish brain thought that we’d be best friends and you would help me save my mother and we’d go on adventures together. I thought that being confident and telling you about what I’d learned about the best types of families would make you like me. After all, my father had taught me my blood and name were the only thing I was good for. When you hated me, I felt ashamed, and then I felt angry. 

Damnit. I’m doing it again, sentiment... Doesn’t matter. 

You say that accepting your sexuality was difficult. What made you change your mind? You seemed happy with the Weasley girl. Why would you give that up? If I looked half as happy with anyone my father had chosen I would have counted my blessings and provided an heir. As it stands, I’m a disappointment. My mother still cries. She wants me to be happy, but it means she’ll never have a grandchild. She takes some solace in getting to know Teddy, but it’s not the same. She’s sad and it’s my fault. But Harry...

Harry. I want to come to dinner. It’s a terrible idea, but I want to see you in the shirt I bought you. I want you to make mediocre tea, and I want to kiss you. Merlin, I want to kiss you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to explore and laugh and bicker with you. I want you to be my friend and partner. I always have. I want my life to be my own. I want to believe that you think I’m attractive and interesting and worth it. But I’m scared for my mother. She’s a target. People that support you and think I’m exploiting you will target her to make me leave you. People that support my father will target her for my disloyalty. If I take a chance and you change your mind... I'll have put her in danger and broken her heart all for nothing.

Maybe I should just marry a nice girl and have a baby to make my mother happy. She had a letter from the Greengrass family. Apparently, they are willing to overlook the Malfoy family's indiscretions in exchange for a bit of land and an ancient pedigree. She’s nice, beautiful, and not obnoxious about pure-blood traditions. If I was ever going to marry a woman... Mother has better taste than Father. But I...

Harry, I wonder every day what it would it would be like to taste your mouth, what it would be like to be yours, for you to be mine.

Fuck it.

Harry, what time is dinner?

Draco

Chapter Text

Draco,

It took me a while to read this, sorry, and I’m responding in the order that I’m reading as I wanted to reply to what happened earlier first. I was just so confused and upset, mostly at myself if I’m honest and I owe you an apology as well for my brashness. I was sure after your last letter that you wanted this and it was just doubt and insecurities that held you back. When we were walking together, it just felt so natural, so right, and I thought if I could just find a way to show you it was all ok, you’d be free to act on your feelings but had no idea how to do that. Then, there you were, in that alcove with the flickering light dancing on your face, excitedly explaining something, eyes bright with excitement, and you licked your lips, and well, I just lost the control I’d been exercising for days, hell, weeks, really. The noises you made, Merlin, just blew me away, and to be surrounded by your scent, the taste of you - I just wanted… well, I just wanted. You’re so incredibly gorgeous, don’t you realise that? If no one’s ever wanted you like that before then you need a better class of lovers me to show you what you’re missing because you deserve that and more. That said, I’m so sorry. The last thing I wanted was to frighten or overwhelm you. 

What can I say? To my own end, welcome to my damage. I act rashly, follow my emotions. I know I can be too much - I’ve heard that often enough, Merlin knows. But Draco, you’re not a coward nor have you ruined this. I was convinced I had, by being my usual impulsive and over-emotional self. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, about my past, that has shaped who I am and well, I’m a lot to take on. I do understand, thank you for writing, for explaining. I am going to read and respond to the rest of your letter now. I’m going to send you this note so you don’t fret - you haven’t fucked this up, I promise.  Honestly, I’d just come over and snog you senseless again but, I think we both need a bit of a break, and I want to take the time to respond to the rest of your letter properly, which won’t happen if I’m anywhere near you.

Harry xxx

Draco,

Just so we’re clear, I’ll be at the game Saturday, in Slytherin colours, and I’d be thrilled to wear your old school scarf. I’ll take any chance to sit with you, spend time with you, and just for the record, I only flirt with you. When I have you, who else could even compete? That said, that’s two whole days away, and I’ve no intention of waiting that long to see you. 

OK, Draco, you seriously made me laugh. You secretly wished I’d snog you in a deserted corridor? Imagine that. Oh wait, I did more than imagine it. I think when we’ve moved past the mortification of what happened, much laughter and teasing might ensue and we will move past it!

On another topic, I’d really love to hear stories about Sirius. I had so little time with him and so much of that time was embroiled in the fucking war. Promise you’ll share them with me sometime. I don’t know the story of the map, to be honest, other than that the four of them have their magic in it. It’s extraordinary that it’s able to track everyone at Hogwarts, given its size and sheer number of people. You gave me a strong mental picture of you with your charts and graphs and I had to smile. I convinced myself back then that my only interest was in what you were up to, and consciously, that was true. We were, after all, fighting a madman and you were involved, however unwillingly. But, if I’d been honest with myself, which I’m trying to do these days, you fascinated the hell out of me from early on. I had no idea, then, about life beyond my struggle to stay alive and navigate the insanity that was my life, particularly when it came to my sexuality. I didn’t hide my crushes on girls, I’d been taught that’s what was good and proper, but if you read my diary with the eyes of an adult, there’s plenty of subtext there to see my attraction to both genders from a young age. Perhaps we can use the map to find new and creative places to, erm, explore. As you say, the past is the past and we need to move forward and that means both of us, Draco. Leave the past behind. We aren’t those people anymore.

You remarked that you think I’m fit (which I’m still trying to wrap my head around) and I admit, I figured out about halfway through the fittings for trousers that you were checking me out so I may have taken a bit more time than actually necessary making some of my choices. *laughs* I couldn’t resist the look in your eyes. I was tempted to snog you right there, though now I’m glad I didn’t.

Draco, sentimental isn’t a bad thing, it’s normal at times. I get that way but I do try not to dwell cause I can lapse into melancholy and I suspect that’s you as well so we’ll just have to help each other with that. I didn’t know you had all those feelings about me as a kid, though looking back now, I can see things I didn’t see back then. I’d have given anything to have grown up with my parents. Your Mother clearly loves you and there’s nothing like that. I’m grateful to have had Molly as a Mum, to have a family at all. She and Arthur were great substitutes. I truly had no idea, Draco, about the things you were taught and how little of that was your fault but trust me, I do now. Anyone who can’t look past all that and see the man you are today and all that you overcame to get here doesn’t deserve your time or consideration and that includes the people that think they deserve to have an opinion about what you do with your life and with whom. I’m proud of you, Draco. As we go forward, I’ll work hard to get better at saying that to your face - I fumble a lot with expressing emotions out loud but I’ll try - for you.

You asked about my sexuality, about Ginny and I guess you need to understand if we’re going to move forward. Well, as I said earlier, lots of hints that maybe I was attracted to both genders but my upbringing didn’t allow me to admit or even look at, really, that side of myself. Like you had prejudice drilled into you, being magical and/or homosexual (or any variation) was labeled unnatural, a freak if you will, in my house. Even today, I can still hear the snide way my aunt says freak when talking about her sister, my mother, or me. It makes my blood go cold, even now. So, I buried everything. Ginny had a crush on me from the time I met her - I was 11 and she was 9 and all I wanted was to be loved and have a family so it was natural and easy to be friends and then date. But, we had our issues even before the war. We broke up more than once and she’d date Dean and I’d bounce between jealous and not caring, understanding none of it. Just before seventh year, the time we were away, we tried again, to try and see if that would work or not. She was hurt and angry that I left her behind but she was safer that way. Once I came back, after the war, I - I just couldn’t. I couldn’t feel, couldn’t respond, couldn’t commit and she had just lost her brother in the war. We were so broken and messed up. When we talked, we knew it was done and then she got the offer from the Harpies and was gone and she’s far happier now and frankly, so am I. It’s felt more right with you in this short time than in the whole time with her. That’s nothing to do with gender - I don’t actually give much of a fuck about that - it’s just about what fits. I hope this all makes sense; I’m not all that great at explaining things sometimes.

I’m sorry about your Mother and her struggles with your choices. As much as I want you with me and make no mistake, I do, I also understand the temptation to do what’s expected, to try and make your mother happy. I have to be honest, though. If you made that choice, I’d fight for you. I want the things that you want and it’s taken me fucking years to figure it out and I won’t let go easily. I want to feed you and care for your wounds, physical and emotional. I want to travel the world with you, to have you be a part of everything I see and do for the first time. I want to have my last thought at night and my first thought in the morning to be how wonderful you feel in my arms, the feel of your skin under my fingers. To see your beautiful face every single day would make me so incredibly happy. Draco, I know you’re scared - I’d be stunned if you weren’t. But, please believe me, I’m not going to change my mind. After your last letter, I made myself really look at things and I thought through every scenario and there’s no doubt in my mind that this is exactly what I want. We’ll find a way to protect your mum, I promise and as for grandchildren, well, if you’re willing to have children, I have always wanted a family. We can work it all out.

I’m already yours, if you’ll have me. Will you be mine?

Dinner is whenever we want to eat after the game, though there’s a shepherd’s pie in the oven now that’ll be ready soon if you don’t need more time. I’m in for the night.

Harry

Chapter Text

Harry,

Get out an extra plate, I’ll be there in 10 minutes. I’d be there sooner but this bloody castle is huge and our stupid colleagues in their infinite wisdom decided to house us on opposite ends of the cursed thing Heading over now.

Draco

Harry,
I don’t know where to start. Or even why I’m still bloody writing you when you are literally sitting in the next room. Maybe I just still like the ability to format my thoughts without tripping over myself and saying things wrong. Maybe it’s just easier to write because it seems like every time we have a moment alone together, the second I open my mouth you put your tongue in it. Merlin, you’d think we were sixteen. You realize this is just ridiculously out of control don’t you, Potter? I’m glad we’ve implemented this separate rooms for grading policy or we’d never get anything done. I’m also glad I’m finished before you, or I wouldn’t be able to to write this, thank heavens for my mental superiority. (It’s either mental superiority, or the fact that I’ve stopped assigning essays as punishment and temporarily decreased the amount of school work I assign so I can get back to you as quickly as possible. Not sure which.) Honestly, if it continues like this my students are never going to pass their O.W.L.’s and N.E.W.T.’s. The worst part is that there are still so many things I want to do to you. Now that we’ve gotten here, I don’t ever want to stop touching you, Merlin Harry the things you do to me. You, Harry Potter, are a blight to the British Magical Education System.

Where to begin? Let’s start with dinner, that shepherd's pie was incredible. When you told me you made it and not the elves I nearly fell out of my chair. I didn’t even know they had professor’s quarters with kitchens. Did you add it yourself, or request it, or what? That didn’t even occur to me till I got back to my rooms. Also, where did you learn to cook like that? I meant to ask but it was so incredible I just forgot, and then well... you know. I suppose I got a bit distracted...
Saturday was amazing. The looks on their faces when you turned up in my old school scarf! Not to mention the look on mine. I had to practically sit on my hands to keep from reaching out and touching you. I wanted to put my arm through yours and lean against you or put my arms around your waist while we waited for the game to begin. Sixteen-year-old me would have been so bloody smug if he could see you in his scarf, then he would have wanked himself raw thinking about it. Although in all honesty sixteen.year-old me did wank himself raw thinking about it. If he actually saw it he’d probably have come in his pants untouched.

Sweet Merlin's pants was I right about that shirt! I’m inclined to forbid you to wear it out, for fear you’ll catch some wizard’s eye, and he’ll try to get in your pants. I couldn’t bear to watch that. This might come as a surprise to you, but I don’t share my toys well. You think you have issues, my entire life could be described with the words, “does not play well with others”. I have no idea how you don’t see how bloody gorgeous you are, everywhere you go, people turn their heads to look at you, and I assure you it is not just because you are Harry Potter. People are constantly checking out your arse from behind, even before they know who you are.

On an entirely different note, I know there is so much about you I still don’t know. These letters have helped me to get to know the real you, not just the Harry I always pictured in my head, complete with bias and blind assumptions. The Harry in my head was either completely frustratingly perfect or the devil incarnate. I like the real one better. He’s sweet, he’s funny, he’s playful, he’s thoughtful and pensive, he’s considerate, he’s cocky sometimes, but also he’s impatient, rash, occasionally thick, and insecure as well. I want to know everything. I want to know all about your past, all the pain, the laughter, the firsts, the embarrassing moments. I want to know all your weird quirks and idiosyncrasies. Here’s one of mine for free. I hate mushrooms. Don’t tell me you know a way to cook them that’s really good and you’re sure I’ll like. I’ve heard it all before. I’ve tried them sauteed, in duxelles, fresh in salads, baked into quiches, stuffed with cheese, you name it. I don’t like mushrooms. And don’t try to sneak them into things thinking I won’t notice so that then you can say, “That had mushrooms in it by the way! Wasn’t it still good?” I WILL KNOW. Every other person that has tried it has gotten a tight polite smile, but given our history and the warning I am issuing you now, if you try it, I will hex you. If the ministry chucks me in Azkaban for hurting the great Harry Potter, I will accept the kiss with a smile. They are a fungus. They taste like rubbery dirt. See, are we having fun yet? If you choose to continue this half-witted scheme of yours and insist on continuing in my company you can look forward to more of those fun little revelations.

Where was I? Oh yes, I want to know your quirks and habits. I also want to know what you want in the future, where you’d like to visit, what sort of house you’d like to live in. Do you want pets? If you ever have children how do you want to raise them? What’s on your bucket list? I’d like to spend hours, days, months, years, learning everything about you. You fascinate me endlessly.

If you want to hear more stories about your godfather, you’d do best to hear them from the source. Mother has been wanting for years to invite you over for tea, as a sort of thank you for testifying for us. I think she was never certain how she would be received. Auntie Andromeda keeps telling her during their weekend luncheons with Teddy to just send an owl, but she never seems to work up the courage. It’s very unlike her. She used to be so self-assured. But she’s been different since the war, the radiant confidence she used to emanate has dimmed. I’m sure she’d love to tell you stories though. Thinking about good times brightens her. In moments like that, I see my mother as she used to be.

Switching topics again, you need to be more careful. You left a mark on me. Minerva noticed and asked if I was seeing someone and reminded me that if I was, I was welcome to bring them back to my rooms as long as, and I quote, ”the lady and I could be discreet and professional around students, and she passed a ministry background check for the safety of the children.” I shot tea out of my nose, and I think I turned so red the mark just blended in at that point. Luckily, (unluckily? I can’t decide) Sybill interrupted, pointing out that marks that appear on the body have different meanings and omens based on their location. She then spent 10 minutes trying to decide if it was technically on my neck or my shoulder as she poked and examined it while I tried to bat her off to no avail. Say, Harry, did you know that a mark on the right side of your neck portends auspicious events in your home, but a mark on the right shoulder means unpleasant news? Because I do now! Thanks, ever so. Oh, and guess where she decided, in the end, the mark was? Merlin, I hope she’s wrong and it’s the neck. Somebody please kill me. I thought once I was an adult my days of being embarrassed about hickies would be over…
It’s ironic to me that their efforts to keep us apart “for our own good” have backfired so spectacularly. I can just picture their faces if they knew what we were up to. I’m surprised nobody even suspects there might be anything going on. I mean I feel like my forehead practically has a flashing sign that says, “Harry Potter is my boyfriend!” on it. I mean it takes everything in me when someone asks me a question or approaches me to discuss something not to just say, “Yes, that’s splendid, very good. Did you know that Harry Potter is my boyfriend?”

Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know. We never talked about it. We never actually said that’s what we are. I mean I guess we’re sort of seeing each other. But we never said we were exclusive or anything. So, I mean, I guess not. If you want to see other people that’s fine too. I… I don’t mind. I totally get it. I just got a bit carried away there. I’ve never had a proper boyfriend, I’ve had a shag here and there from blokes who wanted something simple and uncomplicated, but none of them ever wanted to claim me as theirs.

Regardless, we need to be more careful or people will find out and it’ll be pandemonium. I don’t want to upset what we have. I don’t want you to realise this isn’t worth it. Everything is going so well right now. I mean can you imagine the howlers? I don’t particularly fancy going back to being spit on in the street. (I mean I would, for you I would, but it’s a lot to ask of you, so I understand) I don’t want to jeopardise this if public attention is too much. I can keep a secret. I’m very, very good at that. Nobody needs to know about me.

I think I just heard you start to pack up your work out there, so I suppose I’ll send this to you now. I’m using your owl because if I made Portia deliver a letter 25 feet from me, she would be irate for a week. Put on your shoes, I want to go out to dinner, I know a very special little french place in muggle London, and I told Minerva I needed to pick up some supplies in Diagon, so she knows I’ll be off school grounds for the evening. I doubt she’ll worry about you, you never were one for following rules. Besides, if you plan to meet mother, we’ll have to work on your table etiquette.
Yours,
Draco

Chapter Text

Draco,

I know we’re talking a lot better these days and we’ve gotten to know each other much better over these first months of the school term. but some things are still easier to explain or share this way and to be honest, I’ve grown to love these letters. They let me take time to express myself the way I’d like. I’m not suave or refined and words are difficult for me sometimes but this practice has helped me learn to explain and in doing so, has helped me clarify a lot of things that I previously just struggled to understand, about myself as much as about you. It’s also easier to talk through your questions or the hard things in my life if you already have the basic details.

Like you, I find it strange to do this when you’re literally laying next to me, sleeping like a baby but I sometimes struggle to sleep and you sleep like the dead, so this works. I can’t stop looking at you and the temptation to touch is overwhelming. This will be our second morning waking up together and these last few days have just been so beyond what I’d imagined. That first night, to finally feel free to kiss you, touch you; that’s when I realized that this was definitely what I wanted in my life. I’m tired of having things decided for me. So, that’s where the change you mentioned came from after our French dinner. That was me taking one of many steps away from my damage and into my freedom. 

That French place was so romantic and the food was amazing and I even enjoyed your meticulous demonstrations of posh table manners. You know I don’t really know a lot about such things but if they are important to you and your mum, they are important to me. I’d never want to make you ashamed to take me home or out in public. I haven’t had a lot of French food but I really enjoyed it. Who knew we shared a complete hatred of mushrooms and an adoration of Confit de canard? We’ll have to go back next year and celebrate the start of our amazing romance. I know, you’ll bluster a bit at the romance thing but that’s what it is and remember, I’ve seen that side of you now and you’ve seen mine. Yes, you’re fit as hell and sexy and all that but you’re also soft and tender when you forget to not be. I adore so much the things I’ve seen these last few days. Your morning hair, soft and mussed and looking so touchable, your sleepy eyes when you first wake up. Your orgasm face, Merlin, that face just does me in. You do me in. I’m so over the moon it’s pathetic. I’ve never expected to actually have you like this.  I knew what I wanted but the having, well, that was a surprise. This just felt so right, almost from the start and after the dinner and the wine and then you nuzzling my neck while whispering endearments in french against my skin that sent a shock down my spine and Merlin, I was through waiting and hoped like hell you were going to come with me, literally and figuratively. I’d already determined I wanted this, wanted you and it was just time to be brave about it and here we are. You’re such a passionate lover and your touch drives me insane. That mouth and those fingers and that gorgeous cock. I still can’t quite believe you’re here with me, that you want me. You know that you’re the first man that I’ve ever had sex with, that was pretty evident that first night together. You asked me why afterwards and I said I’d rather answer that here and enjoy our physical time together and you just gave me that amazing smile and kissed me. Merlin, that mouth, your kisses drive me insane. I literally can’t wait to kiss you again, so get used to it! Anyway, I promise to answer that and other questions you asked me in this letter.

So, easy stuff first. I have to admit, I loved the game on Saturday. You looked so gorgeous and I was so proud to sit with you and wear your old scarf. My sixteen-year-old self would have thought me mental but to be fair I was so deep in denial and so focused on surviving back then that I couldn’t handle much else. Thankfully, things are different now. It was a great game and I find that I’m really enjoying talking strategy with you. You’re an amazing coach - Ravenclaw is very lucky to have you. Also, just in case there’s any doubt, you can touch me anytime you like. I’m, well, I’m what my mind healer calls touch-starved. I’m not sure if you noticed or not but in school, Ron and Hermione would touch me a lot; hugs, arms around my shoulders, just gentle touches in general and that’s one of the reasons why. When I tell you about my childhood, you’ll understand better. More on that later - I have to work up to that story.

My quarters. I asked Minerva if I could have a kitchen and after I assured her that it was a pure love of cooking and not a reflection of the food at Hogwarts, she gave me permission to refit my quarters to suit me if I promised to eat half my meals with the staff and make her the lemon ginger biscuits I sent her for Christmas. A small price to pay, really. Do you have a favourite kind of biscuits? My favourites are my custard creams with buttercream filling though I’m also quite fond of chocolate hobnobs. 

You’ve made me blush with your compliments. I find myself rather ordinary looking but you make me feel like the fittest bloke ever when you look at me like that. I honestly can’t get enough of it. If others look at me like that, I’ve missed it. I’ve grown so used to being unhappy about the whole “Chosen one” shite that I’ve stopped paying attention. I had so much help surviving the shitstorm that was my life it’s ridiculous. Anyway, thank you for looking at me like that, for touching me like I’m something precious and then wanting me with such passion. I’ll never get tired of that and that you like the real me, the far from perfect me. I’m really humbled and thrilled. Anyone I’ve tried to be with before, always had an ulterior motive or put me on some sort of pedestal. It’s exhausting to try and be what someone else wants you to be. That was my biggest fear really with all of this. Not others’ reactions, not the papers, none of that. It was the fear of seeing disappointment in your eyes when you realized how very human I am, how flawed and damaged. I like the real you too and also want to know more, good or bad. Here’s a quirk for you - I’m a sucker for firsts and want to know all of yours too so I know which ones to add to my list of firsts I still want to experience. I like so many things about you. When we were kids, I didn’t appreciate your snark or your sense of humour but you’re damned funny. Observant as hell too. I knew you did well in school but I had no idea how damn smart you really are. You’ve turned out to be incredibly sensitive and kind and with a humility that floors me. These last few days have shown me sides of you I never expected. Your playfulness, especially in bed really helped me to relax and seeing you collapse into a fit of giggles over something funny is an experience not to be missed. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard in my life. Merlin, laying next to you, brushing a stray bit of hair away from your face and seeing you smile - it’s worth more to me than all the gold in my vault. Sighs. See what you’ve done to me? Thanks to you I could star in one of those overly sappy paperbacks Molly likes to read and no one would see a difference.

OK, back to this. I’ll tell you everything if you’ll do the same. Weird quirks and idiosyncrasies. Hmmm. Well, let’s see. You know I love to cook and my favorite dessert is treacle tart. I also have closet passions for muggle music of all kinds and, well, muggle films - especially romantic comedies and fantasy. I know, I know, I’m such a girl. Laughs. What can I say? I have a ridiculous fascination with amusement parks and can literally spend days at them. What else? Erm, I don’t like it when people grab food off my plate. I’m an idiot about fresh fruit, especially peaches and cherries. I detest aubergine as much as mushrooms and love a good fry up. I adore fish and chips and I’m not terribly fond of curry, which puts me in a minority. I’m also seeing a pattern here - a lot of food talk. Laughs. I guess I do have a food thing. I’ll explain in a bit. I’m touchy about control. You may expect that given my history. I’m trying to learn to loosen up; I know I’ll have to if I’m going to bring someone into my life and I definitely want you there.

The future. Hmmm. For the longest time, I didn’t think I’d have one and didn’t let myself think too much about it. I used to think I wanted to join the aurors - obviously I changed my mind but hadn’t thought much past accepting this job until we reconnected, Now, I’m really excited to see what the future holds for me, for us.. 

The castle is home for me, the first real home I’ve ever had and I love living here and would keep rooms here for as long as I taught but I’ll admit, I’d love to have my own house. I loved Sirius but the house he left me, not so much. Your Aunt Walburga was scary as fuck and the idea of living at Grimmauld Place makes my skin crawl. It’s the Black family home - I’m thinking of giving it to Andromeda for Teddy. I’d definitely appreciate your advice on this situation. You’re as entitled to the house as Teddy is. Anyway, back to the original point, I’ve always wanted a house, in the countryside with a few acres, a big porch, beautiful floors, an amazing kitchen, big windows, roaring fireplaces, a big garden. I’d love to have more pets besides Hedwig. On a large property they could just roam freely. Plus, it would be safer from the intrusive press. We could always Floo to the Leaky and be in Diagon or London in a few seconds. What about you? 

I’d love to have children, though I’m not sure how that would work. I know I’d want to have a solid relationship first because I think with my background that I need the stability a steady partner would provide in order to give our children a loving and nurturing environment. I’d try to do everything opposite from what I experienced in my childhood, teach them the value of all people, show them the world, experience other cultures, play with them, take them to the theatre and the cinema and help them find a love of learning. I’d celebrate them and their uniqueness and help them learn to do that with others. I want to create that home where all their friends like to gather, where we bake cookies and go sledding or jump in puddles and gather by the fire with a cup of hot chocolate after. What about you? I know you’re an only child like me. Would you want children? If so, do you think our visions are compatible? If not, it’s not a deal breaker for me. There are other ways to have kids in one’s life. I told you over dinner that I’m Teddy’s Gpdfather and take that role very seriously. If anything happened to Andi, I’d raise him. I want you to know that, just in case that would be an issue for you.. 

My bucket list. Hmm. I’ve never traveled outside the UK, so I think I’d love to travel. I’ve wanted to see New Zealand ever since I saw the Lord of the Rings films. I’d love to visit all the great amusement parks around the world. I’ve been to a few in the UK and they’re great fun to revisit. One day I’d love to visit the ones I’ve read about on the continent like Europapark and Phantasialand and of course, Disneyland Paris. Then there are the big ones in the US like Disney, Universal and Cedar Point. 

But I’ve also seen the most beautiful nature photos of places in the South Pacific, like those white sand beaches with cottages that are on stilts that are actually standing in the ocean. That looks so warm and relaxing and romantic. What else? I’d just love to see the world, to eat pasta in Italy, see the Mediterranean, visit the South of France and Paris, Bavaria and the Black Forest. I’d love to see more live theatre and performances of all kinds. I can’t wait to learn more about you. What’s on your bucket list? I’d love to help you fulfil some of it.

Oh, of course It would be wonderful to have tea with your mum and talk to her about Sirius but if it would be easier for her the first time, maybe suggest I just join one of the weekend luncheons so she has Andi there. Your mum saved my life and she’s your mum. I’d love to get to know her. Either way works for me - I’ll leave it up to you two, just tell me where and when and I’ll be there. I hope that over time we can all regain a bit of what we lost in the war. It dimmed us all in so many ways.

Sorry about the mark Minerva saw and even more sorry you were accosted by Sybil. We’ll need to try and be more careful. Let’s check for marks before we head out in the mornings because there is no way am I not going to enjoy giving and receiving those! How about researching some fool-proof concealment charms, Professor Malfoy? I just love leaving my marks on your skin and knowing I’m wearing yours. That’s a pleasure I’m not willing to give up. I agree about their tactics backfiring and I expect Minerva will be surprised when she sees who your “lady” is. LOL. Merlin, this will be entertaining. I’m still liking the idea of the Yule Ball, which is coming up soon. What do you say? Our big coming out?

OK, time for the last two topics in this particular letter. First, what are we and the whole keeping it a secret thing. Here’s my opinion on this - we can discuss it, of course. I don’t want the public treating you badly and I’m liable to wind up with my arse in jail if it happens and I’m there but no way in hell am I hiding this. You are not a dirty little secret, Draco. You’re my friend, my amazing lover, my boyfriend, my partner. The reaction will be tough but Minerva can control the mail and block the howlers. We tell our families first so they aren’t caught off guard and the public can fuck right off. I will not give others anymore power over me and my life than they’ve already taken. If we are doing this - and rest assured that I'll fight for you, Draco, in case you have any lingering doubts; just to be clear - if we are doing this, then it'll be up front. I would prefer we keep our private life as private as possible but I won’t hide you like I’m ashamed of you, of this, because I’m totally the opposite. I’ve wanted my whole life what I’ve found with you and I have every intention of enjoying it to the fullest. Also, just to be clear, I don’t share well either. I’m downright petty and jealous about what’s mine so yes, this is exclusive, not that I want anyone else. In fact, I’m probably completely ruined for anyone else so I hope you don’t change your mind.

Now, the toughest part of this letter. I’m sure you’ll have questions and that’s fine but it’ll be easier for me to answer and talk about it if you know the basic facts about my past. You asked how I learned to cook. Well, I learned as a kid but not because I wanted to. You see, when my parents died, Dumbledore, in his master plan (and that’s a discussion for another day) decided to dump me on the doorstep of my aunt and uncle - the aunt that hated my mum (her sister) for her magic and choices. I wasn’t yet two years old. My early memories are foggy, bits here and there but I only ever remember having the dusty cupboard under the stairs being my bedroom. I have bits of memory of being ill or hungry and locked in there and crying and being yelled at for it. I remember more starting at about the age of 5. That’s when my uncle informed me that I would learn to earn my keep and so it began. Cleaning and cooking for them and only getting a bare amount of food. You might notice I sweeten my tea - that’s one of the things my aunt let me have enough of and I used the sugar to help cover the lack of food. They were very strict with their food and I was only allowed small amounts and my bully cousin would try and take even that - hence my thing about people taking food from my plate. I was so overwhelmed with the sheer amount of food I could eat when I got to Hogwarts. At my aunt’s, I didn’t dare reach for food. Tried that once and got her fork in my hand for my efforts. I also got smacked for crying about the injury. I learned early on not to reach and not to cry - at least not until they were in bed and I was alone in my cupboard. They locked me in at night so I had to steal an empty jar so I could piss and empty it when they were away or busy. I learned to cook very well, it was a matter of survival but there were many burned fingers and they were very physical in their displeasure if the meal or cleaning wasn’t up to par. As I got older, my cousin bullied me at every turn. My one saving grace was that I was fast so I could outrun him but it only went so far. He still tormented me when we were at his house (I refuse to call that place home). I eventually learned to pop the lock on my cupboard so I could at least piss out in the garden but stealing food was harder. Now you know why I was so thin at the start of school years and I suspect why I never grew to be taller. I was only ever given hand me downs from Dudley, who was enormous so my clothes never fit and my glasses were the free ones and I only got those because my sight was so bad I couldn’t cook or clean properly. I was a poor reader before I met Hermione because I was so late getting glasses and also because I wasn’t allowed books. When I was eight, I got a library card and spent many days there to avoid my cousin when I didn’t have to be at the house to do chores. At least it was cool and quiet there. Anyway, that’s how I learned to cook and at first, I didn’t want to ever do it again, but when we weren’t at Hogwarts in 7th year, I started helping with cooking and as I healed, I decided that this was something I could reclaim control of and so I did. I created new memories of cooking and did it for others and discovered a real passion for it.

So, now you know my deep, dark past. I struggle with closed spaces, I struggle to cry and express strong emotions and to control them once they start pouring out. My aunt and uncle hated magic and therefore me but they also hated anything “unnatural” which is how they would see us and our relationship. I can still hear my aunt as she hissed out the word ‘freak’ when talking about either topic. This was what I heard when I considered acting on my attraction to men and why you were my first. In hindsight, I’m glad you were my first, even if the reasons were messed up.

So yeah, denial and a struggle to be who I really am, to believe someone could really love me and find me attractive, my OCD and control issues and trust issues. And yes, before you ask, Dumbledore knew everything and left me there. He gave me a line of bullshit about blood magic protection and such, but I've come to the conclusion that his real motive was breaking my backbone, giving me low self-esteem and making me malleable enough so that I would be open to whatever he wanted me to do, including making me walk to my own death in the end. I also suspect that the reason he did nothing to help Sirius stay out of azkaban was because Sirius, as my godfather, would have had custody of me and therefore would have thwarted his plans. I don’t think Minerva knows, at least not all of it, or Hagrid. Maybe one day I’ll get the courage to ask.

OK, you’re starting to stir and I want to slide down under the covers and wrap my body around yours and enjoy your waking up, so I’ll close this for now. Ask any questions you want - I won’t keep secrets from you anymore. If this is still what you want, then I’m all in. I’ll do my damndest to make sure you never regret dealing with the fallout of being with me.

With love - 

Your Harry.

Chapter Text

Harry, 

First, let's address something: stop talking about my morning hair. I am not cute. I look insane, and undignified. My hair is very fine and it takes on weird shapes in the night. My father used to wear his hair long and braid it at night. But frankly I don’t like it long and it’s too short to braid and so, I wake up looking like a crazy person. At least, I have the decency to try and tame it rather than walk around with that birdsnest you call hair, you heathen. And as for mornings, you are equally undignified, groping around trying to find your glasses, and pressing yourself into my hip. I have no idea what you did before you had someone to reach over and hand them to you. 

Also you could just put them down on your side of the bed, rather than constantly forgetting and putting them on mine so you have to roll over and reach across me.

I’m on to you Potter. 

Second, and on a more important note: Thank you for sharing about your family. I know the unauthorized Skeeter bio mentions an unhappy childhood, but she doesn't specify what. (And no. I didn’t buy it, but once, a while ago I saw it in a shop, and well, you know how you’ve always fascinated me, I maybe sat in a chair in a corner with a tea and read large sections of it. It’s clear that woman is both obsessed with you and also doesn't know you at all.) I suspect it’s because you never really told anyone, so she didn’t know and couldn’t find out. 

Harry, I want to hurt those people. I’m almost afraid to say it given my past. But I do. How dare they treat you that way, and how dare they call themselves human. I used to believe that all Muggles were uncivilized, violent and cruel. I’ve learned since then that all homo-sapiens magical or not have the capacity for good or evil. But your family is despicable. (I hope I don’t offend you) Who in their right mind could take in an innocent child and punish him simply because he was different.

Harry, I want to hurt those people.

But, I suppose what I’ve learned is that muggle or pureblood, bigotry and hatred is strong and universal. Fear of “the other” is so powerful that we hurt and try to destroy the things we don’t understand. 

The fact that you shared it with me means a lot, that you trust me. I said in a letter a while ago, that we were both scarred but that if you show me yours, I’d show you mine. So here it is. The last of it. I suppose we really are doing this, and Harry, I’m scared shitless. But I don’t want any secrets between us. I want something honest and good. I want to know that we have each other, and I want you to know exactly what you bought, and that you want me anyway. So here goes. 

Never in a million years would I have thought you’d want me. Merlin, Harry, you have no idea. I have thought about you and wanted you for so long. I’ve wanted you in my life and in my bed since before I even knew what that meant. But I gave up on believing I could ever have what I wanted the day that I found myself screaming and looking up into red eyes that laughed at the pain he inflicted, branding me for life as someone unworthy of love and respect. I hadn’t been able to say no to him or to any of them. And I felt like I’d given up any right I had to happiness for myself in that moment. 

So I stopped trying. 

I had been given everything. It feels arrogant to say it now, but I was clever, intelligent, and witty—charming (when I wanted to be), fairly talented at quidditch, (nothing like you, but my cunning made me decent competition). I was also pretty and born with money. I started life with more than so many other people who are stronger and braver and fight harder than I had to for what they wanted. I had so many advantages and so much potential to have everything I wanted, and despite all that, I was too weak to claim it, and I lost it all. 

So I struggled through, day to day, shutting down, trying so desperately to hollow out all the want I still had. The desire to be back in a world where I had friends, the possibility of a future, of travel, of a career I wanted, of waking up next to someone who loved me. 

I had a string of one night sexual encounters with men I met in wizarding clubs. The worst were the ones who recognized me and wanted me for the novelty of fucking “The Malfoy Boy”. It made them feel powerful to take me and to degrade me. Most of them got off on using me. I didn’t care, I didn’t complain, I wanted to be touched and in some ways I suppose, I craved the punishment. I spent nights drinking myself to sleep to feel the temporary high that came with childlike oblivion. I told myself I didn’t deserve any better. That the best thing I could do for everyone was just to kill myself and be done with it. The irony was, I was too afraid to even do that. I used to sit trying to figure out how to do it, how to make it painless and so my mother wouldn’t be the one to find me. But every time I settled down to try, I got scared. Pathetic isn’t it? 

Then one day… I’ll never know why… McGonagall knocked on my door. 

I wouldn’t have answered at all, except she refused to leave, and Mimsy kept poking me shouting that “Master Draco has a visitor!”. So I came to the door, still in my night clothes at 1:30 in the afternoon, hands shaking, head pounding, red-eyed, smelling like Ogdens and whichever wizard I’d let fuck me the night before and feeling like I might vomit. She took one look at me, pursed her lips, and told me she’d been notified that Septima Vector was retiring at the end of term. She said I had excelled in Arithmancy as a student and that she wanted me for the post. I had till the summer holiday to get myself in order, and if at that time she deemed me in acceptable condition to be around children, I was to arrive at Hogwarts two weeks before the start of term. Then, she turned on her heel and walked down the drive to the edge of the wards without a word from me. 

It’s funny when I think on it now... It wasn't even a request. 

So, I guess now you know the whole thing. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you before when we were baring our souls. Maybe I thought that you knew, or at least sensed, some of my childhood troubles, but I thought if you knew what I’d done, after the war, you’d be disgusted by me. You said I was the first man you ever had sex with.

I didn’t want you to know that you weren’t the first… and that those men, the things I let them do to me… I’m sorry. 

I didn’t want you to know; about what I did and how ;ittle I valued myself. I thought you’d think I was disgusting. I don’t think that now. I hope I’m right and that this doesn’t change anything. 

Merlin, Potter, the way you look at me, I never thought anyone would ever look at me like that. I can’t describe it. The look of awe and wonder on your face when you are inside me takes me apart. You look like you think you are the lucky one, not the savior of the wizarding world fucking a used, formerly bigoted and fucked up death eater. I still don't understand it. But that look does things to me Harry. It makes me believe its true. That I matter. And I love you so much for it. I don't know what I did to deserve it but I love you. I suppose I wanted you to know now, because I needed you to appreciate what that first letter did to me. 

There I was, sitting in my rooms, healthy, headache free and with a new purpose in life thanks to McGonagall, but still trying to stop wanting the friendship and the happiness I saw and heard echoing through the halls every day. I wasn’t an embarrassing mess anymore, but I still didn’t think I was entitled to anyone's attention, companionship, acceptance, or forgiveness. I was trying to turn myself to stone, and wondering how Severus had been able to do it, desperately wanting to ask his portrait how to shut everything out and not feel.

And then, this letter shows up from Harry Potter. I open it expecting it to be some sort of work-related question you didn’t want to ask in person because you seemed to be avoiding me at every turn, and instead it was an olive branch, more than that, a request to be something like friends. I honestly didn’t know what you were up to. I figured it was either some sort of trick, or a misplaced feeling of guilt brought on by your need to save people (I can hear you saying you don’t have a “saving people thing” in my head. Shut up, you do) and I didn’t want to be pitied or saved.

I was actively trying to drown. 

You should have read my first letter, it was even more unkind than the one you received. I decided I should hedge my bets on the off chance you might use my scathing words against me. 

But Harry, I was confused. 

Then you kept writing, you were so open, you were so… there… I still didn’t know what you wanted with me. But Harry, I’m glad. I’m so glad. I keep pinching myself when I wake up to make sure this isn’t a dream. I wake up and feel your arm around my chest, your breath on my neck, your body flush against my back, your ankle hooked around mine, and I’m afraid if I open my eyes it’ll all disappear.

You are Harry Potter, asking me if I have a favourite type of biscuit. For the record, I ALSO like lemon ginger biscuits. AND they are also my mother’s favourite. We used to eat them in the afternoons together when I was little after we walked around the grounds to look at her gardens and play with the peacocks (well… I say play… I was 5 it was mostly me chasing them about and terrorizing them).

Maybe you can teach me to cook and I can learn to make them for myself. Maybe if we perfect them, we can take them to my mother and you can bribe her into those stories you want to hear about cousin Sirius. Maybe we can take all those bad memories about cooking for you and turn them into something we can do together? It surely can’t be that different from potion making? I’m sure I’ll be brilliant at it. I’m brilliant at everything. 

Then we can tell her that Harry Potter is my boyfriend.

I still can’t believe I’m allowed to say it.

Harry Potter is my boyfriend. You wrote it down on parchment and everything. You don’t want to share me, and you don’t want anyone else… Harry Potter is my boyfriend… I’m so tempted to reach out and start touching you right now. Just to take what’s mine. I want it, Merlin, I want you. I want to touch you and take you and remind myself of the noises you make when you are breathless and begging for me… begging for me…

Witches and wizards all over the world would kill to be in my shoes. Once word gets out, I’ll definitely need to get Minerva to help link the castle wards to my mail. 

And stop with that “you don’t notice people think you’re fit” nonsense. Everybody can see you, Harry, and you are bloody gorgeous. It has taken every ounce of self-control I have to not leave marks in visible places so that other people would see that you are spoken for. That you are MINE. I don’t want a fucking concealment charm. I want to leave them everywhere so that everyone can see that you belong to me. 

MERLIN! How is that possible? Are you really mine? You keep saying it…

You just looked up at me from across the room as I write this... I know you’re pants at Legilimency, but the way you winked I could swear you know what I’m writing. 

Stop looking at me. 

Stop it…..

GAH! Ok, I’m sorry I threw that biscuit at you, don’t come over here… don’t...

Well. I hope you're proud of yourself. And the fact that the first few pages of this letter are smudged and wrinkled are entirely your fault and I refuse to rewrite them because you decided to jump me like a savage.

As I was saying… now that we’ve established that you are mine, I’d love to discuss the things we want to do and see. 

I’ve never been to an “amusement park”, the whole idea sounds filthy and distasteful. What do muggles do there? Pay money for greasy, overpriced food and then be swung about in the air by deadly machines? I don’t see how it could be fun. What is the point? I suppose I’ll try it if you really want me to. I looked them up, there's one in America that has a castle that looks OK and seems fairly clean.  I’d much prefer to go to Ireland to visit one of the ancient Fairy Forts, muggles think it’s all rubbish of course, but the wizarding community there throw the most enchanting solstice parties. I always wanted to go and see the fairies, but my father said that things like that were frivolous and had no social value. I’m sure he also would have had some cutting words to say about how he didn’t want his son to become one. Well, too bad father. Harry Potter is my boyfriend.

In terms of property, I think you need to speak with my mother. Edward is a Black, he would be the rightful heir to the house if you want to forfeit the claim. 

Merlin, I can’t stop talking like my fucking father.

Give Teddy the house if you would like, but put it in a trust, and make sure that Andromeda as his guardian has control. Also, again, consult my mother, multiple members of the family bloodline involved in the transfer of a magical property can make the house magic stronger for a new heir.

As to your home, I can see that you have made Hogwarts your home. It’s been clear to everyone for a long time. But for me, it’s more complicated. 

The Manor is a minefield of memory, some rooms remind me of childhood Christmases and birthdays and some remind me of...

Hogwarts isn’t better. Some places remind me of youthful indiscretions and laughter and excitement, but some places remind me of ugly, painful mistakes. 

I decided recently to purchase a cottage of my own. It’s nothing special. But it’s got a garden and a view of the sea. I think it will be dreadfully cold, and I still have to get it connected to the floo network. But it will be mine. And if you want… It could be yours too. I mean, if you wanted. It’s not exactly everything you described but I was thinking, I wanted a home of my own so… I bought it. It took all of what I had in my personal vaults, I don’t have access to the trust or the estate anymore (mother removed me while I was indulging in my post war indiscretions with liquor and strangers, but we’re in the process of reinstating me if all stays well).

She says the house is dreadful. I’ll admit I need to do some painting and some refurbishing, but it's mine. I also secretly think she’s a little proud of me for making something of my own and has an eye toward coming out to fix up the gardens. Maybe you could help me with the painting? Do you know anything about installing cabinets? Once I have more funds, I want to furnish it and make it my own little haven. 

It’s not the perfect place to raise children, its windy and rather isolated. But it has three bedrooms. I thought maybe one could be for Teddy. He could visit during the summer hols. He is my cousin after all. I want to spend time with him. I know you are his godfather and a sort of father figure to him, but frankly, there are things he needs to learn that you can’t teach him. 

Like how to dress himself for instance. Or how to comb his hair.

I want children. I don’t want my family line to end with me. I want there to be a new generation of Malfoys that will grow up and change what the name Malfoy means to the wizarding world. I want to raise children and not make the same mistakes my parents made. I never really thought I could have that, but now... I don’t know... maybe I can. 

You asked about my firsts, I think I’m ready to tell you all of them in person now. But I will say this. This is the first time I’ve been in love. And I’m all in too. Put this letter down and go into that rubbish pile you call a wardrobe. I stuck a package in the bottom near the back. Pull it out and then come back to this letter. 

Those are new dress robes for the Yule Ball. I chose the green because I thought it would compliment your eyes. Also, because I am a devious, devious, man and I wanted you to wear my house colours again. Not that house colours really matter anymore, but I suppose I thought it might make a statement since I was hoping you might come as my date. And before you balk at my sartorial decisions, put this letter down and look in the garment bag I have hung on the far side of your wardrobe where you have graciously allowed me to keep a few of my things. 

Crimson isn’t my best colour. But I thought I’d play fair. I’ve put you in Ravenclaw blue, and my old school scarf, and now emerald dress robes, and you haven’t complained. I suppose I figured it was my turn. 

So what do you say? Yule ball? Hand in hand as a couple, wearing each other’s colours, telling the world that we are together? It’s nearly Christmas, we’ll be in traditional holiday colours, red and green, and it’s all I want this year. You asked me to go with you to the start of term ball on a whim, as a prank to freak out the other teachers. I said no. I had had enough of being a prop on someone’s arm. I am asking you now as your partner, as the man that loves you, who is terrified of what this means and what will happen next, but is even more terrified of what will happen if you go away. I love you, Harry Potter. I’m in love with you. You are worth whatever comes. Let’s tell the world. 

Yours, 

Draco

Chapter Text

Draco,

You caught me, I’m guilty! I put my glasses on your side so I have an excuse to roll over and wrap around you for a minute. What can I say? It’s the best way to start the day. And, for the record, I’m not going to stop finding you cute or adorable, especially sleep-mussed in the morning, so get used to it. You make me feel like a giddy teenager and I rather like that feeling, so there. Merlin knows I didn’t get to enjoy such things when we were teenagers. It’s never too late.

It’s funny, I think the same things you do when I first wake up in the morning. The pure sensation of it all, it’s intoxicating. The feel of your skin, your scent when I bury my face in the back of your neck. That first morning we woke up like that, I literally didn’t open my eyes for ages for that very reason. I was so afraid it was a dream and I didn’t want to lose it. I think it’s one of those things that I’ll be able to recall with full sensory memory years from now. I look at you like I do because to me, you are so incredibly precious and I mean to make sure you never feel like anything less.

*laughs* Yes, I’m Harry Potter and I’m afraid you’re taking on being in that shadow sometimes but really I’m just Harry. It’s one of the things I love about you, you don’t do that whole arse kissing thing that most people do. I need someone who can love me and call me out on my bullshit. I’m glad you are that person. I’d love to teach you to cook. We can trade — I’m sure you have things you were taught before life went to hell — music or dancing or, I dunno, stuff. 

Hey, no apologies for the smudges — some days, you’re lucky I let you out of bed. I’ve waited a long time for you, for us, so yeah. Stop being so damn gorgeous and sexy and maybe you can finish your writing — or don’t and just enjoy it. It’s my mission to pull those sounds out of y0u on a regular basis and you do seem to love me on my knees. Only for you, love, only for you.

Amusement parks are great fun! I’m sure you’re going to love it as soon as I help you shed some of your Father’s teachings. Seriously, we’ll go and if you hate it, I won’t force you back, but let’s give it a try first? I’ve never heard of the Fairy Forts, but it sounds awesome, so we’ll totally go. As for your father, damn straight Harry Potter is your boyfriend and he’s all about frivolous, so there. We’re going to have so much fun!

About your house. First of all, I...I’d love to share your home with you. I’m just so thrilled that you want to live with me. I love the idea that it’s a new start — not tied to the Manor or Hogwarts or Grimmauld, but just to us. Anyway, during my self-imposed exile, when I was sober, I needed an outlet and I was stuck in Grimmauld and it was as cheery as a mausoleum. So, I hired a couple of contractors to come in and teach me to renovate. You’ll be stunned what I can do now, and I’ll teach you if you like. Yes, I can install cabinets and put in floors, windows and hang doors. I can do basic electrical and plumbing install and repair and add additional rooms. It’s amazing what you can learn in a few years when you have nothing else to do and you have no idea how satisfying it can be to renovate the muggle way. I can do muggle and magic, my preference is a combination of both. 

I’m really excited to see your new house and I think it’s perfect that it’s in an isolated part of the coast — you know me and the public/press. I think together we can make it the kind of home we will both love, and you know that I have plenty of money, so we can start whenever you like. Thank you so much, love, for wanting to share your home with me. 

I’m also excited that you want to have a room for Teddy. I do love that kid so much. *laughs* yes, well, I’ll grant your superiority in clothing and grooming, so that will be your responsibility from now on. But I have other talents. Maybe I’ll use some of that talent and add a few bedrooms in for our own kids. I understand you wanting to have heirs; I think I’m finally ready for that as well. We should sit and talk through some of this in more depth very soon, face-to-face.

You wicked man, of course I’d love to go to the Yule Ball as your date. What an amazing Christmas gift. I love the emerald robes and I’m really impressed you’re wearing crimson — anyone who knows you will know for certain how much you love me. I certainly do. What a lucky, lucky man I am.

Now, the real reason for this note, what you shared with me. I’m touched beyond words that you trust me enough to share your secret with me, Draco. I’m sure it wasn’t easy but I’m so glad, so proud of you; I know that this level of trust we have in each other will be key to our future. So, thank you.

Oh love, it breaks my heart that you felt so low and lost, but I seriously get it. You need to realize that what you did is understandable given the horrible situations you found yourself in, so much of which was not your choice. This whole thing was just fucked up, for both of us. You weren’t pathetic, you were broken and I get that. I didn’t do the sex thing, cause being Demi, I just can’t, but I did hide out in my house drinking myself into oblivion to try and escape the nightmares and to get through all the events that “The Saviour of the Wizarding World” had to attend and speak at. If the Weasley’s hadn’t staged an intervention, I’d likely still be there or dead. So, no love, I don’t find you disgusting or horrible or any of that. I think you’re strong, you’re a survivor, you’re smart, you're gorgeous and I love you! I suspect this is something that will take time to heal and that is fine. We’ll give it time. I’ll just have to show you every single day how much I love you, how precious you are to me and how incredibly grateful I am that I'm allowed to call you mine. I plan to love you well enough that those men cease to exist in your mind, even as distant memories. No matter what they did, they never had you, not the you that matters. He’s the one I love and we’ll just have to replace every word, every touch and every pain with our love.

Harry

PS: I love you.

PPS: Remind me to send Minerva roses and biscuits and tea. I owe her so much!

PPPS: Now, get your gorgeous arse over here so I can snog and snuggle you before we have to leave for our “coming out”. 

~~~~~

With the letter sent off with Hedwig to Draco’s quarters, Harry returns to the wardrobe where he’d hung the green robes. He runs his fingers over the luxurious material and a smile curves his lips as he ponders the attention to detail that his lover is known for. His lover! Merlin, how long has he dreamed of something like this and thought he’s too broken for it to ever happen. He smiles as he hears the familiar and beloved voice call his name and his heart speeds up in anticipation. 

“Bedroom,” he calls out the open door, noting that there is still plenty of time for a nice, long shower before they have to be decent.

~~~~~

The pair make their way down the steps and out into the Entrance Hall. The Yule Ball is in full swing with students and faculty alike swirling around on the dance floor or helping themselves to refreshments. Standing in the open doorway of the Great Hall, Harry hears Draco take a deep breath. 

They look at each other and Harry says: "if our 14-year-old selves could see us now..." 

Amused, Draco raises an eyebrow: "Scared, Potter?"

"You Wish" Harry grins back, taking Draco's hand and together they walk into the Great Hall and their future.

Chapter Text

~~~~~

Good Morning Harry, 

Glad you found this note under your breakfast plate. Would you like to know a secret? I put you in charge of dishes so I would have time to get ready. I know you always start with the cups and saucers, then the silverware, finally the plates. You are easy to predict. I’m yours, Harry Potter. I’m somewhere in the castle students can't find. Using the map is cheating. Come and find me. I love you, I’m in love with you, and when you reach this mystery location, I will not be wearing nearly enough clothing for my mother's sense of propriety and decorum. Hurry up, I'm waiting... 

Every part of me is yours, 

Draco

~~~~~

(For those who struggle with graphics or listen to stories using audio assisting devices, here’s what’s in the graphic.)

It’s Harry and Draco’s kitchen table the next morning.

There’s a plate of toast and bacon, a bowl of fruit, coffee, tea and Harry’s glasses. There’s also a copy of the prophet and scattered about are a few of the owls they’ve received.

The Daily Prophet Headline reads:

"Potter-Malfoy Romance!!!" and features a photo of Harry and Draco together in their red and green robes, smiling and looking quite cozy.

Also a small snippet in the corner about a WNN interview with the couple by Lee Jordan featuring a photo of the pair in headsets on the air, laughing and dressed in t-shirts.

The owls:

On pale parchment with a header that reads Narcissa Black Malfoy, done in an elegant hand -

Draco, my darling, thank you for the forewarning about your attendance at the gala. I expected the Prophet to write a ridiculous article but the photographs are what really made the biggest impact. You both made a rather loud statement but at least you showed your taste and upbringing with your style and your wardrobe assistance provided to Mr. Potter. In the end, all that matters to me is the joy and contentment I see on your face. Give Mr. Potter my best and I will see you both Friday. I love you, my dragon.

Mummy

~~~~~

On dark parchment with singed edges, done in a small, tight hand -

Oy, mate! I knew you were going with the ferret and expected the Prophet to be full of shite but bloody hell. You had to get caught snogging for all of us to see?? Seriously, though, you're obviously happy and that's what matters to me, yeah? Don't think for a minute I'm going to let you out of our monthly get togethers or you coming to Sunday dinners sometimes. I'm sure you'll hear from mum but I know she considers you family too, even if that includes the ferret.

Ron

~~~~~

On medium grade parchment in Arthur’s careful all capitals, a by-product of a career full of Ministry forms -

Harry,

Well son, you certainly made a splash today. The story is mostly rubbish as expected, but the photos show you looking happier than I've ever seen you, so if young Malfoy is the reason for that, then we'll make the effort to see him apart from his father. If you love him, then he's worth the effort. You know we consider you one of our sons and we love you. Be happy, Harry. You deserve it.

Arthur & Molly

~~~~~

On a greytoned, artfully singed parchment with a flourish on the side in a bold hand -

Draco,

Fucking Finally!!

Love,

Your Pans