warning: mentions of domestic abuse and infidelity (not between Harry and Draco)

(prompt request by @chinike)

The streets were soaked by the rain, dew on the windows of his house in the dusk. It was muddy outside, pools of rainwater on the portholes and he was often cosy on his couch when there was a storm. But that lasted till his wards went off wildly. 

Harry rushed to the door and Draco stood before him, his cheek sliced and blood dripping down his chin. He was bruised, dark purple marks on his wrist and over his eye and his white shirt drenched by the rain and red stains of his own blood. He slipped forward and Harry caught him, a hand wound around his waist till Draco’s body sank into his. 

“Draco,” He whispered softly, brushing off a strand of hair from his forehead, holding his face in his hand, “Wait, wait, stay with me, alright?” 

He nodded drowsily and Harry brought him back into his house, dragging him over the couch by the hearth. Bile rose up his throat at the sight of the slashes and blood but with a tremble to his hands, he stripped him off his soaked clothes before he wrapped his body in a blanket and cast a charm on him. He kept a hand on Draco’s cheek over the bruise by his cheekbone and he winced, “Draco, I want you to stay with me.” 

“Talk.” Draco croaked, “Talk, it’ll — keep you busy.” 

“Alright, yeah,” He summoned the essence of dittany and murtlap from a cabinet in his kitchen and kept it hastily on the table, “I burnt my popcorn in the kitchen today and then the—” He cast a spell to clean off his wounds before he spilled the potion on a soft cloth and held it over the slashes on his skin, “The butter splattered and I slipped and you should’ve been there to see the chaos because—” 

Draco grasped the maroon blanket, biting down on it but Harry could see the agony on his face while the potion sank into his deep cuts to stitch the skin back together. A tear slid down Draco’s bruised cheek and the blanket slipped lower and Harry gasped at the sight before him. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Draco.” 

Draco’s body had so, so many bruises, stark red and purple over his skin, and there was a cigarette burn on his left forearm over the dark mark that had blackened over the skull. He saw the white scars on his chest beneath the bruises, a sob caught in his throat, “We’ll be alright.” 

An hour went by till he cleaned his wounds and cuts and worked with charms on potions to heal them. The slash on the base of his neck had been too deep for him to heal it with charms so he had to stitch it back together and hoped that it wouldn’t bleed through. By the time he was done, Draco had slept with his head on a blood-soaked cushion and Harry sat down on the floor, his head buried in his hands. 

Draco couldn’t see him cry. 

He stood up and went over to the kitchen for a cup of tea, watching Draco from the counter till the water boiled in the kettle and then, he sat on the chair with his head bowed over it yet, he couldn’t drink it. 

Draco stirred on the couch later and Harry rushed back to his side, watching him blearily blink his eyes till he woke up. He ran his gaze over the room before his body shot back up and Harry had to hold him down, “It’s okay. It’s okay, Draco, you’re alright.” 

Draco grasped his wrist, his eyes wide in horror while it rushed back to him hazily before he broke down. Tears slipped down his cheeks and he sank into Harry, his hands buried in the fabric of the sweater he had worn but his heart ripped out of his chest when he heard Draco cry, “You’re alright. Draco.” 

Draco buried his head into his chest, “Harry, I’m so sorry—”

“You’re alright,” He soothed, rubbing his hand over his spine but his own voice was teary and hoarse to his ears, “It’s okay, cry it out. I’m here.” 

Harry held him while he cried, often kissing his shoulder or the top of his head and whispering nonsense into his ears till his cries dwindled down to hiccups. Draco’s body trembled in his hold, his eyes bloodshot red and swollen, yet somehow, he was better than before with the slashes on his skin stitched back together, “Who did this to you, Draco?” 

Draco went silent, his eyes caught on the floor beneath him before he meekly whispered, “Ethan.” 

“Tell me where to find him.” A bulb in the kitchen broke and the shards shattered onto the floor while the air cackled wildly with his magic, angry with a violent madness to it that he hasn’t seen before, “I’ll kill him.” 

Draco reached out and held onto his hand desperately and his fury burnt out of his veins when he saw how terrified Draco was. Of course, he had to try to hold his anger at bay for him but he overflowed with it, “Harry.” 

“Draco, he did all of this to you.” 

“Yeah, but I want to forgive him for it later when I’m alright because I can’t run from even if I tried, Harry.” 

Tears welled up in his eyes, spilling down his cheeks as he brushed his thumb over Draco’s hand so delicately, knuckles bloodied, his voice a hoarse whisper when he said, “Forgive him for this?” 

Draco wiped his own tears and held out his forearm with the cigarette burn, “The mark and the history I have with it is the reason I’m so inherently hard to love but if Ethan can love me still—”

“Abuse isn’t love, Draco.” 

Draco slipped his hand from his grasp, “When you’re as hungry for love as I’ve been and scattered for the leftovers and scarps left behind, you’ll swallow down cruelty if it seems like love to you.” 

Of course, he had been hungry for love and angry when he hadn’t been loved without cruelty. He didn’t want to see Draco suffer for love when it was so terribly effortless to love him. Harry ran his thumb over the outlines of the mark, “But can you love him when he did this to you?” 

“I — I’ll try to.” 

“Move in with me,” Harry whispered softly, his heart bleeding out, “Move in till you’re alright and I beg you, don’t run back to him because — I won’t watch him do this to you.” 

“Harry.” 

“I will stand between him and you if I need to,” He kissed the mark on Draco’s forearm, pouring all the love he had for him into it till it bled him dry. He saw Draco’s storm grey eyes through his messy eyes, wide yet teary, “I love you, Draco. Of course, you must know that I do.” 

“No, you can’t.” 

Harry smiled wistfully, “I do. I’ve loved you for so long that I can longer love someone else who isn’t you and I want you to break out of the abusive love that you think you deserve when you don’t.” 

“I — I can’t love you. I don’t. Not like that.” 

“I know,” He said, “But I still want you to be alright.” 

Draco sank back into him, wrapping himself back up into the blanket as he shivered into him, “If I live here, can I steal your chocolate chip cookies?”

It elicited a momentary laugh out of Harry, “Always.” 

“We’ll be alright, won’t we?” 

He ran his hands through Draco’s hair, “Yeah. Yeah, we’ll be alright.” 

.

(this might have a part 2 on request)

tags (you can ignore if you like, it's for a boost)<3 @inflation-of-mind @missdrarrydawn @sorry-i-ship-drarry @harryandginnydeservesbetter @dearly-devoted-dawdler @textrovert-01 @phoebe-delia @nv-md @slytherinnbitch @rockingrobin69 @purplehotmess @just-like-that-butmakeitgay

Unknown

I live my days in bunched-up sheets, pulled from underneath the mattress by my sleep-restless feet. I try to tuck them underneath every morning, but after a while I give up and simply kick it below my feet so at least my skin doesn’t touch the bare mattress.

Oh, and the earth is melting. Or maybe we’ve been plopped into a planet-wide sauna. Either way, it’s fucking hot. But as much as I hate the heat, the feel of my thighs rubbing together is worse. So I wear jeans and walk quickly. Luckily the small parking lot at work makes for little time outside.

Yes, I have a job now. A Muggle one, if you couldn’t tell by the fact I mentioned a ‘parking lot.’ I make jewelry now, of all things. I actually really enjoy it. My boss is an arse, but it’s bearable. Mostly I’m in it for the paycheck, and to revel in the knowledge that I get to do something I love.

I wake up in an unmade bed. I sweat in the summer heat. I spend hours designing luxury jewelry. Sometimes I see a friend after work, or on the weekends. And I’m not as afraid of the unknown as I used to be, because fuck it. Just fuck it.

But mostly I spend my time wondering what you’d say, if you knew all this. If you knew the little intimate details about my life nowadays. I like to think you’d be proud that I’ve not wasted the life you saved.

I send this, not to pressure you, but to tell you that I’m living my life. I want you to know that I’m still taking up a corner of the universe, and that that’s because of you, Potter.

But I want to know what you’re doing now. Write me back, please, and come see the unknown with me.

Sincerely,

Draco Malfoy

they called you brave and so you were

for the @drarrymicrofic prompt “stereotype” | 100 words

There’s a nickname after the war: The Lions. It’s the DA Gryffindors and a few choice additions. They’re meant to be ferocious do-gooders, bravely ushering in a new era of peace.

Instead, Draco finds Harry wandering outside a muggle bar at two in the morning.

Draco frowns. “Aren’t you lions meant to be off saving the world?”

“Didn’t want to.” 

Silence.

“Why not?”

Draco expects, I already did, arsehole or I’ll save it tomorrow. Not Harry backing him up against the alley wall, looking hungry.

“I wanted something else,” Harry says, and when he kisses Draco he tastes like rage.

!!!

"Draco! Wait!" Harry called in the hallway. 

The Slythetin was running away, students moving to let him through as Harry desperately tried to reach him.

This wasn't the outcome he had wanted. He thought telling Draco he loved him would be pretty and all sappy, but instead the Slytherin left him. The panic in his eyes was enough for Harry to know. 

"Draco!" Harry called out once again. All the running je had done this last year helped him to keep up and and to grab Draco's hand to stop him. 

"Draco," he whispered out of breath. 

"Let me go. I'm not good enough. There will always be darkness in me." Draco was crying. Harry could see he was trying hard to keep his composure, but the poor Slytherin was vulnerable in front of everybody. 

"Everyone has a dark side, " Harry said softly, putting his hand on Draco's cheek. "I won't leave you. I love you too much for that." 

"Don't be ridiculous." Draco sighed. "You can't love me as much as I love you. You're the Good One, the Saviour, the Golden Gryffindor." 

"And you were always by my side. I know it took me a while. I was too focused on your dark side that hid your light side." 

Harry smiled as Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "You have light in you, Draco,” he continued. “You saved me. You saved the Slytherins. You have light in you. Let's focus on that, okay?" 

"Harry." 

"I love you, Draco," Harry said loudly to the students surrounding them. "Do you want to be my boyfriend?" 

Draco looked around, tears still rolling from his red eyes. He looked unsure and Harry let go of his arm, defeated.

"Yes!" Draco exclaimed, grabbing Harry’s hand into his own.

(would recommend listening to this song while you’re reading this prompt)

Draco watched him from the couch, crinkled eyes that were lit with the lanterns in the common room and a dent in his left cheek. He was boyishly handsome. He often saw him in stairwells and corridors because there was a madness in it to watch what he couldn’t grasp in his hands. 

After the war, his mother had left him behind and went off to France where the ministry couldn’t search for her but he had been too tired to run off with her. He had sat in his trial, chained down by them. But before he could’ve been sentenced, the doors had been blasted down and Harry Potter had stood there, breaking him out of his chains and testifying for him. 

Draco had saved his life, Harry had said, loud and with a raw command over the room that terrified them enough to cower back, none of them would have been here if he hadn’t. 

Draco hadn’t seen him after the trial till the train back to school for their last year, swarmed by his friends that mocked the reporters of the prophet and shielded him from the crowd. But in the common room, he would wind down into his easy, comfortable self and it was in these moments that he would watch Harry more often than not. 

Both of them were friends, of course but that was even worse. 

“I’m sorry but play along.” Harry whispered into his ear when he sat down beside him on the couch, a hand kept behind Draco and then, onto his shoulder, softly tracing his thumb over the bone that did not fail to send a shiver down his spine. 

Draco leaned into him, “What are you doing, Potter?” 

Harry ran his hand back up to the base of Draco’s neck to brush his hair, “We have to do ‘love potion weekend’ for mandatory inter house unity tonight, what else do you believe I’m doing, Malfoy?” 

“The what?” 

“Luna brewed this love potion and we have to drink it,” He said hastily, his eyes caught into Draco’s, “Tomorrow, we have to do a date with someone in the room and well, if it’s you and I, what’s the worst outcome?”

Draco smirked, “Oh, you could be inconsolably in love with me after this.” 

“You wish, Malfoy.” 

“I’m still refuse to do a date with you.” 

“Well, now I’m wounded.” 

Draco chuckled, “If we do a date, you can’t kiss me.” 

“Why is it the second time I’ve heard this today?” 

Draco kept a hand over his heart in mock surprise, “Shit, who didn’t want to kiss the saviour?” 

“Hermione didn’t want Ron to kiss me.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, Ron and I wanted to kiss but she refused.” 

“I — never mind, you do need a date.” 

Harry held out the vials to him that held a dark pink potion in them, both crested with their initials. It left him cold and terrified from within but no one in the room would want to drink the love potion with him and the one who wanted to was horrifyingly someone he was inconsolably in love with. He wanted to run, of course he did. Yet, somehow, when he held the vial in his hand with ‘H’ written on it, he downed it with the others in the room as he watched Harry smile widely at him. 

The rest of the night went by in a blur. 

“Well, I believe you owe me a date tomorrow.” Draco whispered back into his ear when the love potion kicked in, his head woozy from the contents. He stood up from the couch to return to his dormitory, brushing a kiss to his cheek, “Good night, Potter.” 

___________________

The sun spilled onto the brown cobblestone walls of the castle dimly and on the dewy grass beneath his feet as he stood by the sunlit lake, the love-potion worn off his body well before his date. 

Laid out before him on the grass was a cloth with a with a selection of cheeses, crackers, breads, chocolates and fruits, sandwiches, crisps and lastly, bottle of firewhisky, “Oh, you went all out, huh?” 

“Well, the others went to Hogsmeade for their dates,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck with a shy smile, “But I wanted to do this for you and well, it’s a picnic date but if you—” 

“Who’s inconsolably in love, Potter?” 

For Harry, the potion hadn’t worn off. He had a pink tint over his cheeks, his smile sloppy and ever so love-drunk. He was so terribly woozy because of the potion that he gazed softly at Draco and it left him hollow from within. He grasped Draco’s hand in his own and led him to their picnic, “Oh, you wish.” 

“Yeah, you would be surprised.” 

“Why did you kiss me on the cheek last night?” Harry slurred. 

It rushed back to him hazily but he had been wasted on the drinks and the potion that he could barely remember it, “I’m sorry, what?” 

“S’nice when you do that,” He whispered softly, biting into a cheese cracker and popping a blueberry in his mouth with it, “Because at least I can think you don’t hate me for a while and I — Oh, this tastes horrible.” 

“Congratulations.” Draco said dryly. 

Harry shoved him back softly, “Be less sarcastic, Draco.” 

“What, did you think it would taste like blueberry cheesecake?” 

“I might’ve.” 

“Well, regardless of that,” Draco caught his hand into his own and kept his over his chest and for a minute, it was quiet. A strand of hair slipped down over his emerald green eyes. Draco became too caught up with the crinkles by his eyes once more when Harry smiled, “I don’t hate you, Harry.” 

Harry sobered up, the pink tint draining from his cheeks and his eyes wider than before. He kept his gaze on Draco, his hand brushing over the hem of Draco’s shirt as he brought him closer to himself, “I think I like you.” 

A knot formed in the back of his throat. 

Draco shoved him back and stood back up and his heart broke violently in his chest. God, he was a mess. He was so inconsolably in love that he couldn’t even leave if he tried to, “It’s the love potion, not you.” 

Harry scattered to his feet and reached out for Draco’s hand, weaving their fingers together, “What if it’s not?” 

“I won’t risk that because—” A tear slipped down his cheek when he turned back towards Harry, “Because of course, I love you. Of course, I do. Of course, I try not to but I can’t do that, Harry.” 

“If it’s the love potion for you, too?” 

Draco smiled sadly, stepping back from his grasp, “Harry, tell me that you like me when you’re not on the love potion and when you don’t see me like you do now. Like I’m your — everything.” 

“If I don’t?” 

“If you don’t, I’ll wish that I could leave you, Harry.” Draco ran his knuckles over his cheek and he felt so terribly lonely in that moment that it ruined him. “But I won’t because my heart is a mess when it’s you.” 

___________________

The love potion wore off for the others by the end of the weekend and he often caught Harry in the corridors, stairwells or classrooms. But of course, Harry did not see him. The week began messily and yet, somehow, he didn’t have it in him to leave this behind and it went on till the weekend. 

Till the inter house unity weekend. 

Draco sat in his dormitory that weekend with a book in his lap when there was a knock on his door and none other than Harry Potter stood before him, drenched from head to toe, “Drowned in the lake, did you?” 

“I like you,” Harry blurted out in a rush, “Of course, I like you. God, I like you so much that I’m terrified of it and I do see you like that. Like you’re my —- everything.” 

Draco scrunched his nose, “Yeah, congratulations. But do you want to tell me why it took you an entire week to tell me that?” 

“You said you’re a mess because of me.”

“I beg your pardon, Potter?” 

Harry stepped into the room and held a hand out for Draco, “I wish you weren’t a mess because of me because I like you, Draco. I do. But you deserve so much more than someone who messes your heart and I want to be that for you but if I can’t do that—” 

Draco broke and slipped into him, burying his face into his shoulder while Harry held him with a hand wrapped around Draco’s waist, “I don’t think I’m worthy to be liked by you.” 

“Of course, you’re worthy, Draco.” 

“I don’t believe that.” 

Harry kissed the top of his head, running his hands through his hair, “Besides, who will tell me that blueberry and cheese crackers do not blend into a blueberry cheesecake, hm?” 

Draco barked out a raspy laugh. 

“Can I kiss you or do I have to hear no for the fourth time?” 

“If you don’t try to kiss Ron, yes.” 

Harry smiled, a dent on his left cheek and his eyes crinkled by the corners before he caught Draco’s chin, his pupils dilating for moment before he leaned in to kiss him softly, smiling against his lips. 

For once, he didn’t mind his heart being a mess. 

tags (you can ignore if you like, it's for a boost)<3 @inflation-of-mind @missdrarrydawn @sorry-i-ship-drarry @harryandginnydeservesbetter @dearly-devoted-dawdler @textrovert-01 @phoebe-delia @nv-md @slytherinnbitch @rockingrobin69

❤💚❤💚❤💚❤💚

I'm in my "zindagi ne zindagi bhar gham diye" era.

Ron wasn’t as dumb as people thought. When he saw that silk green handkerchief in Harry’s apartment, the same kind Draco Malfoy wore at the charity dinner last month, he knew his best friend was seeing him. 

His best friend with their old rival. He didn’t feel angry at that revelation, just relieved his best friend was finally happy with someone he truly loved.

He took the silk cloth in his hands and went back to the kitchen. Hermione laughed at something Harry said. 

Ron hadn’t noticed it before, but his best friend seemed really happy since that charity ball. And Ron wasn’t dumb. He knew Draco Malfoy was the reason.

“Harry, I think it’s time to tell us something, don’t you think?” Ron asked with a teasing smile as he handed the handkerchief. “You’re in love and you didn’t tell your bestfriend?”

If I can talk to you and not be judged, reblog this

Read somewhere- "Jab insaan ek bohut bura khwaab dekhta hai toh uthkar hamesha shukr ada karta hai// lekin jab woh khwaab hakeekat ban jaaye toh use uthne mein bohot khauf aata hai//aisa hi kuch ehsaas mujhe har subah hota hai" - i must tell y'all that these lines really hits me hard to the core

From Waiting for This Story to End Before I Begin Another by Jan Heller Levi (via hush-syrup)

Dil grades zindagi

↘ ↓ ↙

Mood → KHARAB ← Sehat

↗ ↑ ↖

Shaqal kismat Future

hi i’m a hopeless romantic with serious trust issues nice to meet you 

'bhai' is such a gender neutral word..i even call my mum bhai

living in a desi household means infinite amazing food for life

growing up in a desi household you're bound to feel like a disappointment at some point but there's always someone at home for you to drown your sorrows

every desi household needs a family doctor as much as a family therapist

They should invent a brown family which is not toxic.