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dorthyanndrarry · 10 days ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -12-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst, mentions of throwing up/vomit
suggested rating: Mature
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 11 || Part 13 ->
Draco went straight from the back of the building, up the stairs, to Elle’s flat. His mind was only on one thing, or several things, or several bottles waiting for him. His hand shook as he raised it to knock.
Draco squeezed his eyes shut.
It was too much. It was so much. And he just wanted it to stop, just stop for a little while.
He tried to tell himself it was just Potter, just stupid fucking Potter. The last thing he was supposed to care about was what scar-head said. There was just something- something about the way Potter stood, the- his fists- Draco’s breathing stuttered in his chest- the way he threw the money, like a voice in his head saying, foolish boy.
Draco shuddered, his knuckles brushing against the wood.
The door swung open and Draco jumped back with a startled laugh.
“Fucking hell, Draco!” Elle chided and laughed, “You scared the shit out of me!”
Draco wobbled backwards until his back pressed against the railing.
“Looking for something?” Elle teased. “Like a pillow?”
“Right,” Draco nodded, “My pillow.”
“It got pushed under my dresser,” Elle frowned and stepped close. “Draco?” She touched his shoulder lightly.
Draco jumped, his whole body feeling like a live wire, he tried to laugh again, but it came out forced.
“Sorry,” Elle said, pulling her hand back.
“It’s fine,” Draco said. “It’s fine.”
“I can tell that it’s not,” Elle said, “Can I help?”
“I ...I don’t know,” Draco managed.
“Let’s walk,” Elle said.
“What?” Draco said, confused.
“It helps. It feels like running away,” Elle smiled ruefully, “A little bit. But a little bit is enough.”
Elle grabbed a rolling cart from inside her apartment and quickly shut and locked the door. When she headed down the stairs, Draco followed her.
“Is it- Are you okay to be out?” Draco asked.
“I feel good today,” Elle said, “So I wanted to do some shopping. Grocery deliveries are all well and good, but they can’t pick out the perfect colour of toothbrush or the fluffiest bath towel.”
Draco nodded silently.
“The thing is, my health gets worse every year,” Elle said, her tone deliberately light. “There’s this saying, ‘live like you’re dying’ well, I live like I’m deteriorating. Someday, I won’t be able to go out like this. Someday, I may not be able to live on my own, but until that day comes, I want to do anything and everything that I can, while I can still do it.”
“That’s...” Draco trailed off.
“Don’t say ‘brave’,” Elle laughed, “It’s just realistic. And I’ve cried plenty over it. Anyone would. It’s a shitty thing, what my body is doing to me.”
“I wasn’t going to say brave,” Draco said.
“I wasn’t sure what I was going to say,” Draco said.
Elle laughed. She slowed down so they could walk side by side.
“So?” Elle said.
“So, you look a bit worse for wear,” Elle said. “Did you have a rough night?”
Draco smiled faintly to himself, “I wish. I’m a bit... sober at the moment.”
Elle hesitated, “That’s… is that good?”
Draco laughed.
“You’ve never tried to sober up before,” Elle said.
“It’s for a lark mostly,” Draco said.
“That’s not something you do on a lark,” Elle said, “Does it have anything to do with that bloke who stole your rent hanging around?”
Draco scowled.
“Uhuh,” Elle said.
“We made a deal,” Draco said, “He wants to make up for all the shit he’s done.”
“And that includes being sober?” Elle said, “Because from what I know of you, that seems more like a punishment than help.”
“Potter thinks he can save me,” Draco said. “I’m not supposed to fuck around either. Literally.”
Elle wrinkled her nose, “What do you get out of this?”
“A place to stay.”
“I was happy to give you that,” Elle said.
“You weren’t any trouble. And I mean that,” Elle said.
“Well… I felt bad about it,” Draco said.
Elle gave him a look.
“What?” Draco said defensively.
“You’re always helping us, but it’s like pulling teeth trying to do even the smallest favour back,” Elle said.
They stopped at the corner, waiting for the lights to change. The traffic was growing steadily heavier as they got closer to the shopping centre.
“So, what are you getting out of this? Because it seems like it’s just… more trouble for you,” Elle said.
“It’s- Well… when you put it like that-”
Elle snorted.
“It’s complicated,” Draco said.
“Ooo, do tell,” Elle said.
Draco laughed.
They crossed the street, and Elle headed towards a small discount shop Draco had never been in before.
“We went to school together. Same year, different houses,” Draco said.
“You were the rich brat, and he was scholarship student-” Elle said, with an airy voice.
“It sounds like the start of a million kids books. Very cliché,” Elle said.
“Potter might dress like he fell out of a wheely bin, but from what I’ve heard, his parents left him quite an inheritance,” Draco said.
“He’s an orphan?”
“A tragic orphan?” Elle asked conspiratorially.
Draco rolled his eyes, “Yes.”
“I’m afraid that makes up for the secretly wealthy bit,” Elle said, “Still cliché.”
Draco frowned.
“So? Tell me more.”
Draco remained silent.
“Come on,” Elle cajoled.
“You’re going to laugh,” Draco said.
Elle grinned, “That only makes it better.”
Draco sighed, “...We were rivals.”
“Of course you were!” Elle laughed.
“You’re lucky I needed to go shopping, as well,” Draco said, grabbing one of the plastic baskets next to the door.
“What else, what else?” Elle asked.
“You’re the worst,” Draco muttered.
“Were you footy rivals too?” Elle asked.
Draco didn’t respond.
“You were, weren’t you!?”
Elle cackled with delight, completely indifferent to all the people staring at them. Draco spotted an aisle with toothpaste and headed down it. He frowned at the toothbrushes and picked out a two-pack, decorated with bright neon colours and a suction cup on the bottom to stick to the sink.
“I like those too,” Elle said, joining him, “They’re for kids, but the bristles are softer, and it’s smaller. I hate how big normal toothbrushes are. I have a very small mouth.”
“Seems like a very big mouth to me,” Draco said, putting the toothbrushes into his basket and moving down to the toothpaste.
“Ouch,” Elle said lightly, “I hit a nerve, huh?”
“I’ve lived my whole life without the knowledge that my childhood was some sort of cliched nonsense, and then you come along-”
“Sorry! Sorry!” Elle said. “I was just teasing!”
Draco frowned at the stupid amount of different kinds of toothpaste and picked a random box with a lot of sparkles on it.
“You don’t talk about yourself much,” Elle said, “Except the cult thing, which is pretty… amazing on its own but, I mean, it’s nice to talk about other stuff.”
“You’re fine,” Draco said, “I’m...I’m just not used to teasing.”
“Your friends never teased you before?” Elle asked.
“They did, sometimes,” Draco frowned to himself, “Not often. My father commanded a lot of respect.”
“Your father did? Not you,” Elle said.
“It was the cult thing,” Draco said, “Most of my friends were the kids of other people in the cult or scared of who my father was or… yeah.”
Elle put an arm around Draco’s back and gave him a squeeze.
“What’s that for?” Draco asked.
“No reason,” Elle said, “What else do you need to buy?”
Draco gave her a suspicious look. “A razor and shaving cream. Something to wear that isn’t… this,” he gestured down at himself.
“I wasn’t going to say anything….” Elle said.
“I know,” Draco said.
“Teasing again,” Elle said.
Draco rolled his eyes, “What else do you need?”
“A new towel and a bra, some other clothes, maybe some socks if they have some that are really soft and fuzzy,” Elle said.
Draco nodded, “Then perhaps you can explain how bra sizing works.”
Elle snorted, “You think I know?”
“You wear them, don’t you?” Draco said.
“Yeah, but I figured out my size by trial and error. And half the time, it’s different depending on the brand and material it’s made of,” Elle said.
“That’s ridiculous,” Draco said.
“Yup. I usually just wear sports bras, but I like to have a few nice ones. They’re my going out bras,” Elle said.
Draco grinned.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” Elle said, “Shopping is always more fun with someone else.”
Draco nodded, “Yeah, it is.”
Draco returned late in the afternoon, after spending most of the day Elle. They shopped for several hours and then dawdled in a fast food place for a while before making their way back to the building.
“You can come back and stay with me,” Elle said as they walked back up the street.
“I know,” Draco said, pulling Elle’s rolling basket behind them, both their bags piled into it.
“Are you even friends with- with Potter now?” Elle asked.
“No. Definitely not,” Draco said.
“You never said what you were getting out of staying with him,” Elle said.
“Danish,” Draco said.
Elle looked up at him in confusion.
“He bought me danish and made me some sub-par coffee,” Draco said.
“That’s it?” Elle said.
“No...” Draco said.
“I’m thinking.”
“Draco, you can just move back in with me. I haven’t even moved my furniture back yet,” Elle said.
Draco grimaced, “...I can’t.”
“We made a deal… I quit drinking and sleeping around, and he gives me everything I want,” Draco said.
“Like danish.”
“And terrible coffee,” Draco said with a nod.
Elle raised her eyebrows.
“He gave me the money to go shopping as well.” Draco said, “And it’s only been a day.”
Elle puffed out her cheeks and blew out a raspberry.
Draco laughed in surprise.
“I just have a bad feeling about it. You don’t have a great history with the guy,” Elle said.
You have no idea, Draco thought and very much didn’t say.
“And I don’t just mean when you were in school,” Elle went on, “He took your rent money so that you lost your flat. Because he thought you stole it. And now he’s trying to fix you? It just feels... icky.”
“It’s not like that,” Draco said.
Elle made a face.
“And I can leave at any time,” Draco said, “Besides, he’s going to break first.”
“He promised me ‘whatever I want!’ That’s ridiculous! Being sober is… fucking atrocious, to be honest, but it’s the only difficult part of my side of the deal,” Draco said.
“You’re not in school anymore, Draco,” Elle said sharply, “You don’t have to compete with him. You don’t have to win.”
“You should put you first,” Elle said. She frowned and repeated stubbornly, “I really think you should put you first.”
Their pace slowed as they stepped through the archway leading into the courtyard.
Draco frowned to himself.
Elle let out a huge sigh and waved her hands emphatically, “You don’t have to do anything I say. It’s your life. Don’t let other people control your life.”
Draco blinked.
“That said, I care about you, and I’m worried, and I want you to be safe,” Elle looked up at him, “Does that make sense?”
Draco nodded, “It does.”
“Okay,” Elle said. “Good. Today was great. I’m glad we got to hang out.”
“I am as well,” Draco said.
Elle smiled faintly, “You should have this Potter bloke buy you a cell phone, so we can go out again the next time my traitorous body lets me.”
“It couldn’t hurt to ask,” Draco said.
Elle grinned, “Now, if you don’t mind, would you help me carry my bags upstairs?”
“Of course,” Draco said.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 I’m working on a Liar’s Department halloween special for the week halloween falls onto. I’m excited 😁 I hope y’all like it
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything thank you so much!!!!! 💜
💜 @slyther-ink smoothing sailing is no fun lol :D  💜thank you!!!!! 💜
💜 @cats-extra-tails thank you! 💜
💜 @devilrising draco is such a little shit :D  💜thank you so much!! 💜
💜 @shadowybook  😂they’re such squabbly little children, still pulling pigtails but neither one of them knows when to stop 💜 💜thank youuuuuuuu!!! 💜
💜 @justafangirlslikes thank you! 💜
💜 @languedor71 they have suuuuuch different communication styles it’s funny 💜 💜thank you so much!!! 💜 💜
💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you! 💜
💜 @dewitty1 god they are idiots, still just kids that never had the time to grow up 💜 💜 💜thank you! 🥰💜 💜 💜 
💜 @dracodragon19872 they are always getting under one another skin, they’ve had years of practise 💜 💜 💜thank youuuuuu!!!!! 💜 💜 💜
💜 @onomtonks  💜 @cloack  💜 @chosenpotter  💜 @addicted-to-w0rds  💜 @snarkyship  💜 @champagnemonarch  💜  
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dorthyanndrarry · 3 days ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -13-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst, mentions of throwing up/vomit
suggested rating: Mature
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 12 ||
Chapter 7
Draco woke with a gasp, heart racing and blinking fiercely into the darkness as the image of the plummeting fall slowly faded from his mind. He tugged the sweaty fabric away from his skin with a grimace. He remembered that he was still wearing Potter’s clothes and dragged the t-shirt over his head, wadding it up into a ball and throwing it across the room.
He pushed the blanket down to his feet and grabbed the plastic shopping bag he had left on the end of his mattress. Draco left Potter’s baggy joggers in a crumpled pile on the floor, unceremoniously kicking them under the sink. He took another shower, turning the dial for hot water until it wouldn’t go any further, but the water remained pleasantly warm and refused to get any hotter. But at least it washed the sweat from his skin.
He shaved and brushed his teeth, putting his small neon coloured toothbrush next to Potter’s boring blue one. Potter hadn’t been in the flat when he had come back from his day with Elle, and from how unsettlingly quiet everything remained, Draco guessed that Potter was still out. It was mildly baffling what Potter would be doing out in the middle of the night. He hadn’t struck Draco as the type to go out clubbing.
The last things left in the bag were a few items of clothes. Pants, jeans that were too stiff, black t-shirts sold in packs of three and some very soft socks that Elle had found. A few cleaning charms helped make the jeans softer; he added tailoring spells to lengthen the legs and tighten the waist. Draco pulled on a t-shirt and brought the fabric up to his nose without thinking, but it just smelled like new clothes and plastic.
Draco dropped all the extra things on the end of his mattress and walked into the dark living room, using a lumos to find the light switch on the far wall. The light made the room feel emptier than it had been before. He went into the small horseshoe-shaped kitchen and put the kettle on to boil, opening cupboards until he found Potter’s tea.
There were boxes of black tea, bags of fancy green teas mixed with fruit, and a few herbal teas, all shoved haphazardly on the same shelf. Draco went through and smelled each one while he waited for the water to boil, picking a sweet green tea mixed with coconut, lemongrass and ginger. Potter had nearly as many mugs as he did teas. Draco sat on the countertop as he took out each mug and examined it. There was a bright orange Chudley Cannon’s mug, a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes mug, a black mug that had ‘reading is lit!’ written in white, a mug emblazoned with the Gryffindor seal, wrapped in red and gold-
A shrill whistle from the kettle made Draco jump, and he quickly moved it off the heat and turned off the burner.
Draco pushed the other mugs aside until he found the largest one, a green and gold Holyhead Harpy mug. The paint was far more faded and chipped than on the other mugs.
Draco filled the mug, cradling it in his hands as it heated the ceramic until his hands stung. The small digital clock on top of the oven said it was two in the morning. He stared at the clock as the minutes passed, and water inside the mug began to cool before adding the green tea. The steam lifting from the cup was instantly sweetened, but after three minutes of steeping, he added sugar anyway.
Draco idly scraped his thumbnail over the Holyhead Harpies gold lettering, scratching off the faded paint.
This time of night, he normally would have been leaving a bar. Or already left, to spend the night in someone’s arms. Even if he hadn’t found someone to go home with, he would have drunk himself blind and passed out in his own bed to sleep most of the next day off.
He had to wonder if days had always been so long. So empty.
Draco sighed and sipped his tea. It was too sweet.
He cast a stasis charm over the mug as he set it on the counter. He’d come back to it later.
Draco turned on the tv and flipped between the channels. Late night programming was a mix between strange and boring with no middle ground. He chewed on his thumb absently as the different colours and lights flashed across the screen, shifting his weight from foot to foot and back again. He went back to the kitchen, drank more tea, moved it to the coffee table. He sat on the couch but couldn’t stop bouncing his leg.
Draco gave up on the tv and stood up, going to Potter’s room and opening the door. It was empty, which Draco had been fairly certain of, but he was still surprised it hadn’t been locked, cursed or alarmed. It seemed incredibly stupid to him that Potter would trust Draco around his things. It wasn’t as if Potter didn’t care about his things; he had to. Like the photos.
Draco found himself standing in front of the collage of pictures above Potter’s dresser. He searched through them, watching the wizarding ones through their loops one person at a time. Potter had his mother’s smile, the way it crinkled up at the corners of her eyes the same way. Potter’s father’s hair was a carbon copy of his, but a few pictures of the older Potter showed that he could control it sometimes.
Draco blinked at the picture of Sirius Black; they had similar eyes, the same grey. He had been very handsome once. He found one photo of Sirius with a young Remus Lupin. Sirius had his arm slung around Lupin’s neck, pulling him close. At the end of the loop, their faces almost met.
Draco stared at that for a long time, wondering if he was naive in thinking maybe they had kissed. It made him wish he had had the chance to meet his cousin just to have someone in his family he could talk to about… about being different from everything he was supposed to be.
Draco brushed his fingers over that photo before stepping back. He found a copy of the Quibbler on Potter’s nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, flipping through it. He was almost certain it wouldn’t have made any more sense if he tried to read it when he was well-rested.
Draco put the magazine back. As he was leaving, he spotted a large plastic basket near the door filled with clothes and plucked a flannel shirt off the top, shrugging it on over his t-shirt. It was soft and warm against his skin.
Draco returned to the couch, laying down on the plush red upholstery and letting his eyes drift shut, half-listening to the people on tv. He must have dozed off because when he opened his eyes again, it was to the piercing light of dawn.
Draco yawned and pulled his socked foot up onto the counter where he was sitting, resting his cheek on his knee as he watched the toaster beside him. Inside, the little metal wires glowed red with heat. Draco let his hand hover over the top, warming his palm.
There was a crack of apparition from inside Potter’s room followed by a faint, tired groan.
Draco levitated the kettle over to himself, pulling off the lid and directing it into the sink. He had to set it down in the bottom before turning on the water and filling the kettle. As he put the lid back on and put it on the hob, turning on the heat with another spell, Draco had to wonder at his own ineptitude. Then again, charm twining, casting and overlapping multiple charms at once with wordless casting was something they were meant to learn in seventh year.
The toaster popped with a horrible metal sound.
“Jesus-fucking-christ!” Potter said in startled surprise.
Draco turned his head to look at Potter, just outside the kitchen. The shadows under his eyes weren’t a patch on Draco’s own, but they were fairly impressive.
“Malfoy? What the fuck are you doing?” Potter asked.
Draco gestured mutely to the toaster.
“I meant- It’s six in the morning,” Potter said.
“I did notice that,” Draco said flatly.
Potter narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to get a better look at Draco, “Did you sleep last night?”
“Take a wild fucking guess,” Draco said flatly, then before Potter could answer, “A few hours, I think.”
Potter frowned.
“Don’t be a hypocrite, Potter. You were gone all night,” Draco said.
“That was for work. There was an… incident. They needed all aurors on deck,” Potter said.
Draco noticed that Potter was indeed wearing the trousers and dragonhide boots for his auror uniform. He must have shrugged the robes off in his room.
Potter sighed, “And here I was trying to be careful and not wake you.”
Draco smiled faintly, “Sometimes you can be very considerate for an arsehole.”
“And I see you helped yourself to one of my shirts again,” Potter said.
Draco looked down at the flannel shirt hanging open loosely over his t-shirt and felt weirdly embarrassed. “I was cold,” he said, carefully pulling a waffle out of the toaster.
Potter stepped further into the kitchen as the kettle began to whistle faintly and turned off the stove. He picked up the green mug Draco had left next to the sink, still half full of stasis-warm tea.
“It was too sweet,” Draco said.
Potter glanced over at him, “I didn’t think that was a problem for you.”
Draco shrugged one shoulder. He grabbed the knife sticking out a jar of Nutella; the chocolatey hazelnut spread, melting as he swiped it across the waffle.
Potter brow furrowed, and then he took a sip of Draco’s abandoned tea.
“See? Too sweet,” Draco said.
“This is one of the green teas?” Potter said.
“Whenever I made them, they were bitter,” Potter said, taking another drink. “I never understood why she liked them.”
“You have to let the water cool,” Draco said.
“What?” Potter looked up in confusion.
Draco nibbled on the corner of a waffle, “With green teas, you have to let the water cool for a few minutes. If it’s actually at boiling, it scorches the leaves and makes them bitter.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Potter said.
Draco wondered, rather belatedly who ‘she’ was.
“Why does my mug say ‘Holy pies’ instead of ‘Holyhead Harpies’?” Potter asked.
Draco figured the answer to that ought to be fairly obvious, so instead, he asked, “What do you suppose a holy pie is anyway? Do you think the pope would be involved, or could any old priest wave his hands over a pie and make it holy?” He took another bite of waffle and chewed slowly. “...can you eat a pie once it’s holy, or would that be sacrilege?”
Potter frowned at him in confusion, “Wha- Where did you even learn about the pope?”
“There was this one flat I lived in for a while. Really, really shite neighbourhood. This young priest would come around to talk to people. He was trying to get us to come to his church, to save us, but he helped people out even if they weren’t interested. And he didn’t mind answering all my stupid questions. Was rather nice to look at as well,” Draco took the other waffle out of the toaster and began applying nutella.
Potter frowned “...Toaster waffles? With- what are you doing to them?”
“Nutella. Or well, off-brand nutella,” Draco said,  “I could only afford a knock-off version with the money I had left.” He held out the waffle to Potter.
“You could use more chocolate in your life,” Draco said.
Potter sighed and begrudgingly took the waffle from Draco.
“It won’t kill you,” Draco said.
Potter took a bite off the corner and conceded, “It’s pretty good.”
Draco nodded.
“Not really breakfast food, though, is it?” Potter said.
“Where in the rule book does it say that?” Draco asked.
Potter made a face, “I mean, it’s just one of those things. Unwritten rules.”
“They tend to be the stupidest kind,” Draco said, “The only good thing about being an adult is you can eat whatever you like, whenever you like.”
“And sit on countertops apparently,” Potter said.
“It’s very satisfying,” Draco said.
Potter rolled his eyes, “It’s unsanitary.”
“That’s what cleaning spells are for. More waffles?” Draco asked.
“…Nah, I better not. I want to get a couple hours of sleep and clean up before the- the press thing,” Potter said sourly.
“Mr Potter is as popular as ever. Do things ever change?” Draco said.
“Unfortunately not,” Potter glowered.
“Tea?” Draco asked, looking through the cupboard for another mug.
“This is fine,” Potter said, lifting Draco’s old half-finished cup.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
“Waste not, want not,” Potter said under his breath as he deliberately took another drink of tea.
Draco found a mug at the back of the shelf that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. It had a picture of a kitten on it clinging to a branch. Beside the kitten, it read ‘Hang In There!’ in large comic sans type with all apparent sincerity.
Draco gave the mug a cursory wipe out with a kitchen towel before filling it with hot water and a teabag from one of the nicer black teas.
“He didn’t manage it then,” Potter said out of nowhere.
Draco frowned at him.
“The priest. He was trying to save people but, you- well, you’re-”
“A massive fuck-up. Yes, I have noticed,” Draco said sarcastically. “I would hazard to guess he was trying to save people in the religious sense. Not the drinking themselves to death way.”
Potter chewed on his bottom lip, looking down at the mug in his hands. “So you were drinking even before you were living at that place? The flat I saw?”
“...I think I started drinking when I was seventeen.”
“What?” Potter looked up, startled. “Seventeen?”
Draco absently toyed with the sting on his teabag, fighting down a yawn. “...Hm… might have been sixteen. Yeah... I think that was before my birthday.”
“Malfoy, that’s- I...” Potter’s words seemed to die in his throat.
Draco took the teabag out of his cup and vanished it.
Potter awkwardly looked back down into his mug.
“Weren’t you going to sleep?” Draco asked. He dropped his foot off the edge of the counter, looking around for the sugar bowl. Draco frowned; everything was a mess.
Potter lifted the mug to his lips, finished the tea, and set it in the sink. He grabbed the sugar bowl sitting on the other side of the kitchen and handed it to Draco.
“You should probably try getting some sleep too,” Potter said.
“I have to go to group counselling today,” Draco said.
“Three? Two?” Draco said. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember the exact time but couldn’t.
“Then we can both sleep for five or six hours,” Potter said, “I’ll wake you up by noon. Alright?”
Draco blinked. Potter’s tone made him feel off balance.
“Malfoy?” Potter asked.
Draco nodded silently.
“...Good,” Potter said. He stood there for an awkward moment then left, going into the bathroom.
Draco finished his tea, listening to Potter clean up, going from the bathroom to his bedroom. As silence fell over the flat once more, Draco slid off the counter and went back to his mattress.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 Next weeks update will be the Liar’s Department Lightly Haunted Special. It’s not directly related to halloween but it is lightly haunted. and hopefully funny💜
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything thank you so much!!!! 💜
💜 @slyther-ink if there is one thing draco is good at, it’s being annoy XD 💜 thank you!!!! 💜
💜 @cats-extra-tails 😆  💜thank you!! 💜
💜 @whenrainbowsend defo a little icky 💜thank you! 💜
💜 @shadowybook draco does have a pretty low opinion of himself :( 💜thank you sooooo much!!!
💜 @devilrising thank you so much!!! 💜
💜 @dewitty1 thank you!!! :D draco needs so many hugs 💜 💜 💜
💜 @justafangirlslikes 😁 thank you!!!! 💜
💜 @cloack  💜 💜thank you!!!!! 💜 💜
💜 @languedor71 thank you!! Elle is great, if headstrong and fiercely independent💜   thank youuuuuu!!!! 💜
💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you!! 💜
💜 @snarkyship 😍😍😍thank youuuuuu!!!  💜 💜draco needs people, he thrives when he has attention, harry keeps neglecting him D: 💜
💜 @idareyoutotakealook 😆thank you!!!!! 💜 💜
💜 @addicted-to-w0rds thank you!!💕💕💕
💜 @chosenpotter thank you!
💜 @dracodragon19872 thank you! hope you like it ;) 💜
💜 @onomtonks thank you!
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dorthyanndrarry · a month ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -8-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst, mentions of throwing up/vomit
suggested rating: Mature
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 7 || Part 9 ->
Chapter 5
“You know you can stay as long as you like,” Elle said, following Draco out of her flat onto the landing.
“I appreciate you letting me stay-” Draco said.
“I know my brother was a wanker to you the other day, but you shouldn’t mind him,” Elle said.
“It’s fine, Elle,” Draco assured her. “It’s only temporary, and if things don’t work out, I might need to move back in anyway, so enjoy your freedom while you have it.”
Elle sighed, “I’m going to have to make my own tea, then?”
Draco laughed. “I can always stop by every morning and brew you a cup.”
“Shut up,” Elle said lightly, smacking his arm.
“I’ll come back and visit whenever I can,” Draco said.
Elle smiled faintly, “We can survive without you, you know.”
“Of course. You lot are the strongest people I know,” Draco said, “The thing is, I consider you friends and would like to see you.”
Elle laughed and hugged him. “Are you going to tell everyone?”
“If they’re around, but I’m sure you’ll pass on the gossip to everyone else,” Draco said.
“I’m not a gossip,” Elle said.
“You’re the worst gossip I’ve ever met, Elle. Don’t ever change,” Draco said.
Elle rolled her eyes and leaned over the railing to wave him off.
Draco had come by earlier while Elle was still asleep to shrink down his mattress and stuff it into his pocket. He had pretended to come back for the rest of his things which amounted to the clothes he had stolen from Potter and his old winter cloak. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to throw away what was left of his alcohol, so he had left it in the back of a cupboard Elle wasn’t using.
He walked around the back of the building and took out his wand, looking around half-heartedly to make sure no one was around before he apparated to Potter’s apartment.
It looked exactly like Draco remembered from the last time he was here. Potter had changed the wards to let Draco in, but he didn’t think Potter would be here. He had a job, theoretically.
Potter had offered him the couch, which was very comfortable, but Draco wanted at least a small piece of something that was just his own. There was a tiny hallway separating the kitchen from the bathroom. The bathroom door opened inward so he wouldn’t be in the way. Draco took his mattress out of his pocket and resized it in the back corner, adding a new cushioning charm to make up for the shitiness of the mattress.
He leaned his head against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut for a second to try and ease the throbbing pain behind his eyes, but it was no use. Draco decided he had done enough for what felt like a year and kicked off his shoes before crawling onto the mattress, covered only by a fitted sheet worn thin from repeated cleaning spells. He laid down, already regretting his decision to do this and be here. He wanted to be back in Elle’s flat with his half a bottle of whiskey and almost empty bottle of rum. He kept putting off finishing the rum, but he would gladly do so now. But that would require moving, and he would rather die. So he curled up in a ball and closed his eyes as a wave of nausea rolled over him.
“Malfoy? Are you awake?” A voice called from somewhere.
Draco didn’t answer. Sweat crawled down his neck and back, soaking through the thin t-shirt he was wearing. His hands kept shaking, and he clutched them tightly to his chest to make them stop.
“Really? Here?” Potter said, his footsteps stopping outside the hallway entrance.
Draco opened one eye and glared up at Potter. “You have a guest room I don’t know about?” he asked, his voice cracking and rough.
Potter’s eyes narrowed, and he moved closer, kneeling down beside the mattress, “You look like shit.”
“And now you’re stealing my lines,” Draco muttered.
“Do you need to go to St. Mungo’s?” Potter asked, hovering close like he wanted to check on Draco whilst also making sure not to actually touch him.
Draco shrugged one shoulder. He had gone too long without drinking before but always managed to get a drink before it got this bad.
“...You’re going through withdrawal, I think,” Potter said.
“Genius deduction, they teach you that in auror school?” Draco muttered.
Potter sighed, “Why are you so difficult?”
“I’m not difficult; you’re a moron,” Draco said.
“Get up,” Potter said.
Draco considered this and decided that was the last thing on earth he wanted to do, right after moving and breathing and existing.
“Get up,” Potter repeated, “I’m taking you to Mungo’s.”
“No,” Draco said, trying to squeeze himself into an even tighter ball.
Potter sighed in frustration, “I could make you, you know.”
“You can’t save me against my will; that breaks the bargain,” Draco said.
Potter scrubbed a hand through his hair with muttered, “fuck” under his breath.
“Shouldn’t have promised me whatever I wanted,” Draco said, almost laughing and then shuddering and taking a deep breath, hissing it out through his teeth as his stomach lurched.
“You know they probably have some sort of potion to help with all this, right?” Potter said.
Draco didn’t respond.
“You can’t like feeling this sick. You never had a tolerance for much of any sort of pain in school, or discomfort for that matter. Or inconvenience,” Potter said.
“I learned,” Draco said.
“For spite, though-” Potter said thoughtfully.
Draco smiled faintly.
“-I can imagine you doing quite a bit out of spite.” Potter sighed, “So what do you want?”
“Not this,” Draco muttered.
“This what?”
“This everything,” Draco said, glaring half-heartedly at Potter.
Potter almost laughed but just managed to catch himself. “Malfoy, if you want this to be less shitty, you’re going to have to go to Mungo’s.”
Draco turned his face into the mattress. He could just imagine how they would look at him, how he would be treated by the healers there.
Potter shifted his weight, a floorboard under his feet squeaking in protest.
“Come on, Malfoy,” Potter said, “Want me to carry you like a princess?”
Draco huffed a faint laugh, “Damseling me again, Potter?”
“If it works,” Potter said.
Draco rolled onto his side, “I want a danish.”
“A Danish?”
“Raspberry is my favourite,” Draco said, “with cream cheese.”
Potter smiled and tried to turn it into a frown, “Anything else, princess?”
“Done,” Potter said.
“And a kiss?” Draco raised an eyebrow.
Potter snorted in amusement, “Come on, Malfoy.”
“At least help me up,” Draco said, managing to get to his knees.
Potter caught his arm and pulled Draco to his feet. He had a strong grip and easily balanced Draco against his swaying world.
“Ready?” Potter asked.
“I think apparition might kill me,” Draco said, holding onto Potter’s sleeve like a lifeline.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Potter said and apparated them.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 sorry it’s short :/   💜 
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything thank you so much!! c:  💜
💜 @cats-extra-tails yay! I’m glad you liked it 💜
💜 @devilrising harry does love to save people lol 💜thank you so much!!
💜 @justafangirlslikes thank you!!!!! 💜 💜 💜
💜 @shadowybook thank you so muchhhhhh!!!! 💜
💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you!
💜 @dewitty1 when is anything easy when it comes to those boys? 💜thank youuuuu!!!! 💜
💜 @languedor71 draco does tend to be very... prickly XD and I imagine his feet were very sore after all that work💜tthank you!!!! 💜
💜 @slyther-ink too true, harry has a huge confirmation bias when it comes to his hunches :D 💜 💜 💜thank you so much!!! 💜
💜 @champagnemonarch thank you! 💜
💜 @chosenpotter thank you!!!! 💜
💜 @addicted-to-w0rds it will be a mess I’m sure XD
💜  @dracodragon19872  thank youuuu!!! 💜
💜 @mortalsfool  💜 @snarkyship  💜 @idareyoutotakealook  💜 @lilyinthebreeze  💜
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dorthyanndrarry · 24 days ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -10-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst, mentions of throwing up/vomit
suggested rating: Mature
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 9 || Part 11 ->
Draco went from St Mungo’s straight back to the apartment block and Mary’s door. He bought Mary all the groceries she needed and let her cajole him into coming inside. He lost track of time as Mary served him tea, biscuits, and simple sandwiches made with shaking hands. Draco listened to the latest news about her family, who had called a few days before, and then to a recap of all Mary’s programs. Draco had hardly watched any television himself, he had never bothered to get one of the bulky plastic boxes, but he kept up with several shows through Mary. He had trouble keeping all the names and plot lines straight, but it was interesting in messy a chaotic way.
When he finally excused himself, it was already dark outside. Draco walked around to the back of the building, each step slower than the other. He looked up at the sky, deep blue-black with only a handful of stars pressing through London’s light pollution.
There was a thump ahead of him as a scraggly looking cat scrambled out an open bin and dropped onto the pavement. Its long white fur was dirty and starting to mat. It might have been beautiful once. The cat stared at Draco, frozen in place for half a second, before laying back its ears and hissing at him.
Draco stared at the cat. He didn’t want to go back to Potter’s stupid flat. He didn’t want to see Potter’s stupid grumpy face either. Draco frowned to himself because the idea of coming back to Potter’s flat and finding it empty was even worse. And god, he wanted a drink. Draco groaned under his breath. His head was starting to hurt.
The cat startled and bolted into the darkness.
Draco squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to focus long enough to apparate to Potter’s flat.
Draco landed in the middle of the kitchen. Potter jumped up from the couch, wand in hand and pointing at Draco in a split second.
Draco felt himself freeze.
“Malfoy?” Potter said. An open magazine slithered off the couch cushions onto the floor.
Draco caught his breath and scowled at Potter, “As opposed to all the other people you have staying here?”
Potter dropped his wand to his side, “I didn’t know you’d be released so soon.” He frowned and then looked out the window, “It’s late.”
“Brilliant deduction, Auror,” Draco said sarcastically.
“St Mungo doesn’t release people at night,” Potter said. “What have you been doing?”
“I was busy,” Draco said.
“Busy where?” Potter asked.
Draco’s brow furrowed, “What- Why do you care?”
“I’m-” Potter hesitated, looking embarrassed by the words coming out of his mouth, “-supposed to be saving you.”
Draco’s expression didn’t change.
“That was the deal we made,” Potter said stubbornly.
“I was helping out Mary. From my apartment block,” Draco said stiffly.
Potter’s eyes narrowed, “No hook-ups.”
“We agreed. You’d stop drinking and sleeping around,” Potter said.
Draco stared at him, “With Mary?”
“MARY?” Draco said with delighted dismay and a peel of laughter.
“What…?” Potter said.
Draco tried to stop laughing, wrapping his arms around himself and squeezing.
Potter raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.
Draco took a deep breath, “Mary is over seventy, Potter.” He started giggling again, “She’s decidedly not my type.”
Potter blinked and managed a very poetic, “O...kay.”
Draco started laughing again.
Potter dipped his head, rubbing his hand through his mess of hair, “I get it, I get it. Very funny.”
Draco took a few shaky breaths. He thought, maybe, Potter was hiding a reluctant smile, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Why are you hanging out with old ladies?” Potter asked.
“I run errands for her, pick up groceries, things she can’t manage by herself,” Draco said.
“Why?” Potter asked.
“Because,” Draco said.
“What are you getting out of it?” Potter asked.
“Tea and biscuits mostly,” Draco said.
Potter’s brow furrowed.
Draco sighed in exasperation. It wasn’t like he could say that Mary told him he was smart and handsome and good. That she hugged him and patted his hand and never expected anything from him.
“She’s nice,” Draco said.
Potter’s expression remained confused.
Draco rolled his eyes, “Well, as fun as this has been, I’ve been sober for six glorious hours, and I’m exhausted.”
He glanced at Potter one more time, not quite able to resist, before walking around to the small hallway and his mattress, where he curled up and dropped into a restless and dreamless sleep.
Chapter Six
Draco took a deep breath, his cheek pressing into a soft pillow smelling like evergreen and soap. He was surrounded by warmth and pulled his arms tight to his chest, burying his head deeper into the pillow. He had nearly fallen back to sleep when he remembered he didn’t bring a pillow and only had the fitted sheet, no blankets.
Draco opened his eyes and forced them to focus on his surroundings. He was still in Potter’s flat, still on the floor, but now he had a pillow, half falling off the mattress, and he was covered in a soft fleecy sky-blue blanket. As he slowly pushed himself up, he saw two more blankets left near his feet, one knitted, another a heavier quilt.
“Are you awake?” Potter called from the other side of the wall.
Draco didn’t respond. Even if he had been sleeping, that would have woken him up, so it seemed like a particularly stupid question.
Potter looked around the corner, “So you are up. You could have said something.”
Draco grimaced at him. The headache he had had last night had followed him into the morning and was softly thrumming behind his temples.
“Get up,” Potter said.
“No,” Draco said.
“You should eat something,” Potter said, disappearing back into the kitchen.
Draco flopped back down onto his bed, pressing his face into the pillow. It occurred to him that the smell caught in the fabric must belong to Potter.
“You look like shit,” Potter said, his voice far too close and without any footsteps of warning.
Draco twitched, trying to hide how badly he had been startled with a sharp retort, “Thanks ever so much.”
“Need anything?” Potter asked.
Draco pulled the blanket up over his head, his words muffled by the fabric, “To be left alone. And stop stealing my lines.”
Potter sighed, “I meant like a potion or something.”
“You don’t have any potions,” Draco said.
“I bought some yesterday,” Potter said.
Draco frowned to himself but gave in and muttered, “Pain potion,” through the blanket.
Potter opened the bathroom door, the soft clink of glass on glass heralding the vial of potion Potter tapped against Draco’s forehead.
Draco sulkily pushed the blanket back down and took the vial of pale violet liquid, turning it to read the label before pulling out the rubber stopper.
“I can read a label,” Potter said irritably.
“Sure you can, Potter,” Draco said, taking a tentative swallow or the watery, fennel tasting stuff with a grimace.
“You’re supposed to take the whole thing,” Potter said.
Draco pressed the stopper back in, shivering as the potion worked its way through him, first with a chill, then briefly making him feel entirely numb before it began to fade and leave him as he was, but without the headache or the stiffness in his back that he hadn’t noticed.
“I don’t need more than that,” Draco said.
“They’re literally the weakest potions you can get,” Potter said.
“I hadn’t had any for years. Until last week, anyway. I’m still sensitive to them,” Draco said.
Potter frowned, “So you’re on child doses? How did they manage at St Mungo’s?”
“Gradual dosing,” Draco said. “My mouth perpetually tasted like something had crawled inside it to die.”
“Ugh,” Potter said.
“It was wretched,” Draco said.
“You’re not going to get up, are you?” Potter asked.
“Why should I?” Draco said and shifted the conversation, “What’s with the blankets?”
“You being all curled up in the middle of a mattress made me feel like I’d brought in a stray dog,” Potter said.
“Rude,” Draco said.
“It was weird,” Potter said. He leaned over and took back the half-empty vial of potion, returning it to the bathroom, and then went back into the main part of the flat.
Draco let his eyes close, his mind fuzzy in a dozy half-sleep. He could hear Potter banging around the kitchen, cabinets opening and closing, the sound of ceramic and silverware. It was loud enough to keep Draco from properly falling back to sleep but strangely comforting at the same time. It wasn’t the sort of sound he ever heard in the manor, but it reminded him a little of being in the dorms at Hogwarts. It was just nice to know other people were there. Even if they were being fucking annoying.
Draco’s whole body twitched as Potter set a box down next to Draco’s mattress, “Fuck!”
Potter raised an eyebrow before going back to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of milk and a little sugar bowl. Potter walked so silently it was uncanny.
“You’re too quiet,” Draco complained.
The corner of Potter’s mouth turned up in a brief smile, “Oh yeah?”
“You should wear a bell.”
Potter’s mouth twitched, trying not to smile again, “Like a cat?”
“Exactly,” Draco said.
Two mugs were sitting on top of the box, filled with a dark, steaming liquid.
Potter sat down on the floor and moved the mugs to the side, flipping open the little box. Inside was an array of danish, with raspberry and strawberry and apple fillings, striped with cream cheese and shiny with a sweet glaze.
Draco’s eyes widened, and he sat up.
“It’s from the bakery down the street,” Potter said.
Draco hesitated.
“What?” Potter asked.
Potter picked up one of the mugs, adding a touch of sugar and milk to it before taking a sip.
Draco hadn’t moved.
“You wanted danish and coffee,” Potter said, “so I got them.”
“...right,” Draco said faintly and picked out one of the raspberry danish and took a bite. It was so good, and for some reason, it made him want to cry.
“I called in sick,” Potter said, “Since I know you’re going to give me shit about not going to work. We don’t have any big cases going on right now, so it’s fine. They’ll owl me if something comes up.”
“Mmhm,” Draco said.
Potter narrowed his eyes, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“No reason,” Draco said, shrugging a shoulder.
“Because normally you can’t shut up,” Potter said.
“I’m eating.”
Potter set down his mug, “How do you take your coffee?”
Draco’s brow furrowed.
Potter pointed at the other untouched mug, “Your coffee?”
“Milk and sugar,” Draco said.
Potter lifted a spoonful of sugar and added it to the mug.
Potter added another spoonful.
Potter gave him a look and added another, “That enough, princess?”
“Probably not,” Draco said.
Potter added another spoonful of sugar, stirred it in and topped it off milk, “More?”
Draco nodded.
Potter cracked a faint smile, “This is less coffee with milk and sugar and more milk and sugar with a little bit of coffee flavouring.”
Draco licked the glaze from his fingers and carefully picked up the very full mug, guiding it to his lips and sipping the liquid from the top. The milk had cooled it to lukewarm, and it still tasted too much like coffee for his taste, but it was tolerable.
Potter was staring at him but Draco couldn’t make out his expression. He quickly looked down and the mug in his hands when he realised Draco was watching him.
“They have this thing called lattes. It’s the best thing muggles have ever made,” Draco said.
Potter raised his eyebrows, “Better than indoor plumbing?”
Draco took another sip as he thought. “I think...I would rather shit in a bucket than give up lattes.”
Potter was mid-drink and nearly choked on his coffee.
Draco picked out another danish while Potter coughed.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 I just love these two talking to each other
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything oh yeah, there will be more jasmine, i can’t wait to write more of her 💜 💜 💜thank you sooooo much!!!
💜 @slyther-ink 😆princess(derogatory) is so much fun💜 thank you!!!!!! 💜
💜 @pinhead-logan tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason🤔 sorry 
💜 @shadowybook thank you so much!! 😍😍😍that makes me so happy💜
💜 @cloack  💜thank you!! 💜
💜 @hmmihaventdecidedyet :D thank you!
💜 @dewitty1 it will be very good for draco, hopefully, if i can write it good lol 💜thank you so much 💜 💜 💜 💜
💜 @whenrainbowsend thank you!! 💜 💜
💜 @devilrising yaaay i’m glad you like jasmine! i’m excited to write her 💜thank youso much!! 💜
💜 @snarkyship 😆draco is sooo defensive around harry it’s ridiculous 💜💜thank you!!!!!!💜💜  
💜 @chosenpotter thank you!!! 💜
💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you!
💜 @iamactuallya-cat thank you!!!! draco is such a cutie🥰
💜 @idareyoutotakealook 😍😍😍that makes me so happy! thank you!!! 💜
💜 @addicted-to-w0rds by being a complete pain in the ass mostly XD thank youuuuu! 💜
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💜 @dracodragon19872  💜 @onomtonks  💜 @mortalsfool 💜 @justafangirlslikes 💜 @thecookiethoughts   💜! 💜 💜 💜
92 notes · View notes
dorthyanndrarry · 17 days ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -11-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst, mentions of throwing up/vomit
suggested rating: Mature
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 10 || Part 12 -> 
“What about my kiss?” Draco asked.
“What?” Potter asked hoarsely.
“I asked for danish, coffee, and a kiss,” Draco said with a smirk.
Potter shook his head, “I didn’t agree to that one.”
“You didn’t say you were going to get me danish and coffee, either,” Draco said.
Potter shook his head again.
“Tease,” Draco said.
Potter coughed faintly and cleared his throat as he lifted his mug, forgetting to drink once it reached his mouth.
Draco watched Potter slowly drop the mug back down to the floor, looking distracted and lost in thoughts.
Draco licked glaze from his thumb and absently rubbed his cheek, “...I need to shave.”
Potter looked up, eyes focusing and then squinting theatrically.
“Oh shut up, it’s just very blond,” Draco said.
“Uh-huh,” Potter said sceptically.
“Right here,” Draco said, brushing his fingers around his upper lip and chin. He didn’t really grow much facial hair beyond that.
“I had more of a beard than that at thirteen,” Potter said.
“How is that surprising?” Draco said, “You’d probably have a full beard in three days.”
“Probably,” Potter said, “I hate how it itches, so I’ve never tried.”
“You have a razor?” Draco asked.
“What? No.” Potter made a face, “I use a charm.”
Draco frowned.
“Ron taught it to me- I- It’s faster,” Potter said.
“I hate shaving charms; they’re too rough,” Draco said.
“No? They’re not?”
“It irritates my skin,” Draco insisted.
“Sure it does, princess,” Potter said.
“Fuck off,” Draco muttered.
“Then how’d you manage at school?” Potter asked. “I can’t imagine you using a muggle razor.”
“I had my grandfather’s straight razor,” Draco said.
Potter’s eyebrows rose, “That’s a terrifying thought.”
“It’s enchanted to only cut hair,” Draco said.
“Why don’t you use that then?” Potter asked.
Draco sighed, “Because it’s in a chest, in my family vault, which I cannot access because some fucking idiot stole my wallet.”
“So you don’t have a razor, much less shaving cream,” Draco said.
“No,” Potter said.
“Then you shall have to buy them for me,” Draco said.
“What? No. No, I won’t,” Potter said.
“You promised to give me whatever-”
“I’m not your personal servant-”
“ ‘Whatever I want’ includes whatever I want.” Draco shot back.
The muscle in Potter’s cheek jumped as he clenched his jaw.
Draco looked at him pointedly, wondering if this was as far as it went. He knew Potter wouldn’t last, that he would break the bargain first. Of course, Potter was also stupid enough to offer everything while only demanding two things from Draco. Not that they were easy things, but Draco was fairly certain he could hold out until Potter broke.
Potter breathed out, “Fine,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few notes, folded in half and crumpled badly from being in his jeans, “Here’s twenty quid-”
“You took the day off, didn’t you?” Draco interrupted.
Potter’s mouth thinned, “...yes.”
“I don’t know any of the neighbourhood shops around here, so you’ll have to show me,” Draco said.
“So you’re blind now?” Potter said, starting to sound irritated.
“Oh, come on, Potter,” Draco said.
“I’m not going to be ordered around by you, this isn’t third year where you can make me do your potions-”
“I’m not ordering you around, Potter!” Draco said, raising his voice, “I just-” he stopped.
“What? What?” Potter snapped.
“...I would like the company, is all,” Draco said, flushing faintly and raising his chin defiantly in spite of it. “Shopping is more fun with someone else.”
Potter blinked, “Shopping is never fun.”
“Then you’re doing it wrong,” Draco said.
“How does someone do shopping wrong?” Potter said.
“I don’t know, but you’ve obviously managed it,” Draco said.
Potter made a face at him.
“You haven’t eaten any danish,” Draco said.
“What?” Potter frowned, “You’re doing it again.”
“What?” Draco asked.
“First you’re talking about one thing, then suddenly you’re on about something else. I can’t fucking keep up,” Potter said.
Draco rolled his eyes, “I only said that you hadn’t eaten any of the danish.”
“We were talking about shopping,” Potter said.
Draco ignored him, “There were six danish, two of each flavour, so that means three for each of us-”
“I don’t- I don’t care, Malfoy. I only bought them because you asked for them,” Potter said.
“Well… that’s stupid. They’re fresh-made bakery danish,” Draco said. He picked up his third danish as he stood up, “I’m going to use the shower.”
“A shower. Now you’re talking about showers,” Potter glared up at him.
“You are so annoying, Potter,” Draco said, going into the bathroom and closing the door behind far too heavily, wincing at the noise even as he rather wished he had slammed it harder.
Draco put the last bite of his danish in his mouth before stepping under the shower’s spray. He dipped his head under the warm water, letting it soak through his hair and run down his face. He took a moment to examine the bottles in the shower caddy more closely, popping open the three in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, smelling a now more familiar scent of pines and evergreen. Draco used the other separate shampoo and conditioner, already half empty, and wondered who they belonged to. What person had stayed in Potter’s flat long enough to need their own toiletries?
Draco had set his wand in the shower caddy while he washed, and as he turned off the water, he cast a weak and warm drying spell over himself, shivering a little as the warm air engulfed him and evaporated the droplets of water from his skin.
He released the spell and used his fingers to comb through his damp hair because, unsurprisingly, Potter didn’t have a comb of any kind. The face reflected back at him in the mirror looked pale and exhausted, with dark smudgy shadows under his eyes. Draco grabbed the hand towel beside the sink and tucked the corner of it behind the mirror, hiding most of the reflection. He went to grab Potter’s toothbrush like he did whenever he stayed over somewhere strange and froze, remembering it was Potter’s mouth it had been in, and that was just one step too far for him.
Draco cast a cleaning spell over his clothes, the t-shirt and jogger’s Potter had given him, before putting them back on. He hadn’t liked the clothes he copied from the thrift store to help Samuel with his work, so he vanished them once the job was done. He was starting to regret that now.
When he stepped back out into the flat, he saw that Potter had cleaned up the coffee and pastries and returned them to the kitchen.
Potter was rinsing out a mug when Draco looked in, “Did you eat them?”
“I hadn’t had breakfast anyway,” Potter said, not looking over his shoulder.
Draco sighed.
Potter set the cup on a counter, “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
“I just wanted to know if you were going to eat them. If you weren’t, I’d have finished the rest,” Draco said.
Potter turned off the water and stood very still.
“Because I’m not a thief, despite what you think about me,” Draco said.
Potter muttered something under his breath, bracing his hands on the countertop. “...If you wanted to have more, then you just should have said so,” Potter said tightly.
“I did,” Draco said with a frown, “When I pointed out that you hadn’t eaten any that was-”
“Not asking, Malfoy. I’m not that stupid,” Potter said, turning around to glare at Draco.
“I was insinuating the question,” Draco said.
“You’re the host,” Draco said, “It would have been rude to take more than was offered.”
“It’s not rude to ask for more food,” Potter said.
“It is. But then again, a good host would have offered me more once I had my share,” Draco said.
“The fuck-” Potter threw up his hands, “Do I look like a ‘good host’ to you?”
“No. Obviously,” Draco said, “but I thought it only fair to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
Potter shook his head, muttering what sounded like more cursing under his breath. “Fine.” he said, exasperated, “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, you can just treat me like a- a bad host or, I don’t know, shitty roommate, that’d be more accurate.”
“I’m glad we’ve cleared that up,” Draco said.
“You know, it’s weird, I thought that we’d have both grown up and matured, and I wouldn’t want to throttle you every time you opened your mouth, but I was wrong,” Potter said.
“You didn’t think that,” Malfoy said, “You’re not that delusional.”
“Optimistic. I was being optimistic,” Potter said stiffly.
“Perhaps you are that delusional,” Draco said.
Potter slowly clenched his hands into fists of pure frustration, an aborted snarl caught between  his teeth.
Draco took a few steps back, aware that he had pushed this a bit too far, “So… I’m fine taking that twenty quid to go buy a razor by myself. I need to get a toothbrush and a few other things...”
Potter fished the folded notes out of his pocket and threw them all in Draco’s direction, where they flitted to the ground halfway between them, “Good. Excellent. You should go out for a while, just go away for a while.”
Draco edged close enough to picked the money up, “I can do that.”
“The closest shop around here is-”
“It’s fine,” Draco interrupted, “I’ll go back to my neighbourhood; I know what’s around there.”
Potter’s frown was the last thing he saw before he apparated back to his apartment building.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 with harry and draco I’d like to say it’s two steps forward, one step back, except sometimes it’s one step forward, one step back, or sometimes one step forward, two steps back. and isn’t that just the fun of it 
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @cats-extra-tails  it was a good line, wasn’t it? Might put it back ;)  💜thank you!
💜 @shadowybook harry knows you don’t need something in return for friendship, he just thinks draco does, it’s gonna be fun when that one comes out 💜 💜 💜thank you so much!!! 💜 💜 💜
💜 @dewitty1 Thank you so much!!!  💜 💜poor harry’s still a little caught in the past 💜
💜 @languedor71 thank you!!🥰💜 💜 💜
💜 @devilrising they’re still ready to fight at the drop of a hat 😅 such silly boys 💜thank youuuuu! 💜 💜
💜 @champagnemonarch :D thank you! 💜
💜 @havingaverydrarryday  💜thankyou!💜
💜 @snarkyship so true, draco’s a sucker for sweets, especially in this story lol 💜thank you!!!! 💜 💜
💜 @addicted-to-w0rds  💜 💜thank you! 💜 💜
💜 @chosenpotter 💜thank you💜
💜 @cloack in the world of not-to-subtle metaphors, draco is the cat lol💜 thank you!!! 💜 💜
💜 @justafangirlslikes :D bonding💜 thank you! 💜
💜 @slyther-ink  😭thank you so much!!!!!! 💜 💜 💜
💜 @dracodragon19872 they’re very cute when they aren’t trying to rile one another up😅 💜thank you! 💜 💜
💜 @idareyoutotakealook 💜 @iamactuallya-cat 💜 @whenrainbowsend 💜 @hmmihaventdecidedyet  💜 @pinhead-logan 
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dorthyanndrarry · 2 months ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -4-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s
suggested rating: Mature
Disclaimer: it gets worse
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <-- Part 3 || Part 5 ->
Chapter 3
A groan crawled up out of Draco’s throat, and he gripped the sheets tightly in both hands. His stomach twisted, and he swallowed hard, clenching his jaw to keep everything down. His head was thrumming with agony. Every single movement sent warning pains through his head and stomach. Draco squeezed his eyes shut until shapes swam in his vision, took a shuddering breath and then slowly and carefully pushed himself upright. He sat very still, focusing on breathing.
Draco didn’t recognise the smell of this place. The last thing he remembered was being at the bar with Laura and her friends. Despite being stripped down, he was still wearing his pants. Draco pried open his eyes just enough to see through the haze of his eyelashes. The bed was empty and neatly made up; Draco had just been placed on top of the duvet, a throw blanket tossed over him.
Before he could look around further, his stomach gave another ominous roll that propelled Draco to his feet. He pressed his hand over his mouth and hurried out into a small apartment, turning on his heel until he spotted another door and rushed inside, barely making it to the toilet before his stomach emptied.
Draco slowly pushed himself to his feet and rinsed his mouth out at the sink. There was a bottle of painkillers on a shelf by the mirror, and he popped two into his mouth. He had to lean against the sink as his stomach ached at having nothing by pills and water on it.
Grey eyes looked back at him in the mirror ringed by deep shadows and sallow looking skin. He went to swing the mirror open against the wall, but it wasn’t a medicine cabinet, just a mirror attached to the wall. Draco pressed his hand over his reflection as he pushed himself up and shuffled to the shower, stripping off his pants along the way.
The bathroom was small but well cared for. The white tiles were starting yellow with age; the porcelain and exposed pipes spoke of the style after the war, perhaps a building built in the aftermath of the second world war and the bombing of London.
Draco turned the water on and was hit with shudderingly cold water that gradually turned warm but never got properly hot. There were three bottles, one of shampoo and conditioner and a bottle meant to be shampoo, condition, and body wash all-in-one. Draco would roll his eyes, but he’d seen the same thing in many, many bloke’s showers.
He used the separate shampoo and conditioner that had a vaguely jasminey-flowery smell. Draco turned the water off and had to grab the only towel hanging beside the shower to dry himself off. He had left the bedroom before finding his wand, but he could dry the towel along with everything else before he left. It was odd that there was only one towel, as he remembered Laura saying she had a roommate.
Draco frowned to himself as he scrubbed the towel over his head. He studied the bathroom more closely with growing unease, there was no makeup on any of the shelves, but the girls might keep  it in their rooms if they wore any. He thought Laura had been wearing makeup.
Draco retrieved his pants off the floor and put them back on before easing the bathroom door open and peeking outside. The apartment seemed to be empty, and smaller than Draco would have expected. He stepped out and looked around.
The main room was half living room, half kitchen, with a small table and four chairs on the kitchen side and a large plush couch on the living room side with a narrow space to walk between the two. The only other rooms were the bathroom he had just been in and the bedroom.
Draco’s breathing stuttered, and he hurried back onto the bedroom. He quickly scanned the floor, but it was clean; his clothes were nowhere to be seen.
Draco ran to the dresser and pulled open the drawers until he found a pair of grey joggers. Tying them up to keep them on his thin hips. He pulled a t-shirt on next, so loose it seemed to be made from someone three times his size.
Draco just needed to find his wand.
A movement in the corner of his eye made Draco jump, jerking his head up to see the wall behind the dresser was covered in photographs, moving photographs. His eyes widened as he looked from photo to photo. Many of them were older pictures of people he didn’t know but recognised. There was a younger Professor Lupin, actually looking happy, a young and handsome Sirius Black before Azkaban had aged him, a young man that looked uncannily like Potter, except for the eyes and a pretty young woman with striking green eyes. Among the new photos were pictures of Potter and his friends, all from their time at school, looking young and hopeful.
Draco turned around and looked at the room, properly this time, without panic or sickness clouding his vision. The duvet was red, the rug in the centre of the room the same red colour emblazoned with a lion in gold. He was in Potter’s apartment.
If he was drunk enough to black out-
If was possible that…
But even that drunk Draco would have thought he would know better than to go anywhere with Harry bloody Potter.
Draco hands began to shake, and he wrapped his arms around himself tightly.
He needed to find his wand.
Draco forced himself to take deep breaths and count to ten before he started to search the room. He searched under the bed, nightstand, dresser, pulled out all the drawers to the dresser and pulled the clothes out. He stripped down the bed, shaking out every blanket and checked under the rug. Nothing.
He went out into the main room, checking under everything before he started pulling it apart. He pulled up the couch cushions and the two matching armchairs on either side of the couch. He looked around the rather large tv, and a mess of old vhs tapes and newer dvds piled next to it. The cabinet under the tv was stuffed to bursting with board games and cards, both muggle and wizarding. There was a small bookshelf, but aside from a stack of quidditch magazines, the contents were dusty and untouched.
Draco turned to the kitchen, it was unlikely, but it was his last chance. The fridge was mostly filled with leftovers from take-away and wrapped up plates of what looked like homemade food. Draco took a ham roll from one of the plates and chewed on it without really tasting it, his body shaky for food. All Potter had to drink was a bottle of milk and pumpkin juice, both from wizarding markets. He had to wonder how Potter could stand pumpkin juice; Draco had lost his taste for it by third year and switched to tea or coffee depending on how exhausted he was.
Draco started going through the cupboards, leaving the doors open in his wake so he’d know where he’d looked already. On the top shelf of the last cabinet, he found a half-empty bottle of fire whiskey. He hated fire whiskey; it was just a gimmick drink for young idiots. And there wasn’t even anything to mix it with. Draco despised straight alcohol.
He unscrewed the top and took a sip, letting a wisp of smoke slip out his lips as he looked over the kitchen and living room, the bathroom and then bedroom, one more time, looking for anything he might have missed.
There was a small closet in the corner of the bedroom, and Draco rushed over to it, flinging open the door. Inside were a few dress robes, winter sweaters, and several auror uniforms.
“fuck,” Draco hissed under his breath, his eyes stinging.
He tried to remind himself he hadn’t done anything. No matter what Potter thought, he hadn’t done anything.
Draco shook his head so hard he felt bile rise up his throat. He forced it down with a swig of fire whiskey, biting down the flames down into smoke. He left the bedroom and started pacing around the living room, searching everywhere all over again, just desperately trying to find his wand.
Draco spun around on his heel when he heard the door open, the world continuing to circle even after he had stopped moving.
“Malfoy?” It was Potter’s voice
Draco managed to catch himself on the back of the couch, sagging against the red fabric.
“What the fuck?” Potter said, “How are you even awake? You drank- I thought for sure-”
“My wand. Where is it?” Draco enunciated through clenched teeth.
“Is that my bottle of fire whiskey?-”
“My wand.” Draco said again, managing to glare up at Potter, “My wallet. My things. Give them. Back.”
Potter patted his pockets and drew out two wands, his own and Draco’s, “You mean this?”
“Everything else has been entered into evidence,” Potter said.
“Under suspicion of being evidence of a crime,” Potter said.
Draco let himself sink down onto his knees, leaning against the back of the couch.
“I knew you were doing something to those muggles,” Potter said with a triumphant smile, “A different one every night, always leaving before they got up-”
“How long have you been watching me?” Draco said weakly.
“Of all the things, Malfoy, I never would have imagined you’d stoop to being a thief,” Potter said, shaking his head. “Imperius, oblivate, love potions- not murder, you’ve never had the spine for it, but something cleverer than just stealing.”
Draco squeezed his eyes shut and snorted out a laugh. He felt high, and like he might have to throw up again. “Bullshite.”
“You heard me. Bull. Shite,” Draco said. He let his eyes fall open.
“I’ve been investigating you for-”
“Then why am I here? Potter?” Draco said, gesturing loosely with the mostly empty bottle, “If you were going to arrest me. I would be in a cell. Not here. Not-” he snorted, “kidnapped in your bedroom.”
Potter blinked rapidly, his brow furrowing up, “I didn’t kidnap you.”
“There is no fucking way I would have been-gone- come with you,” Draco said, “Last I remember. I was going to go home with Laura. To be thoroughly fucked.” he swallowed hard, “with a dubiously borrowed strap-on.”
Potter was looking flustered and furious. He still held two wands in his hand as he pointed them at Draco, “There were almost a thousand pounds in your wallet! Where did you get it? Who did you steal it from?! I know you-!”
“Gringott’s,” Draco said.
Potter stopped.
“I got it. From Grin-gott’s,” Draco said, letting every syllable roll off his tongue, “From my vault. Paid the fees and everything.”
Potter slowly started to shake his head, lifting the slack wands to point directly at Draco, “No way. I don’t believe you. No one keeps that much cash on them. Do you really think I’m going to believe that for even a second?”
“Oh, fuck...” Draco said, remembering the money, “the money…”
Potter’s smile came back, cold and triumphant, and Draco wanted to wring his fucking neck.
“That was for my rent. You fucking cunt,” Draco dropped the bottle and covered his face with both hands and rubbed them hard over his eyes, “I’m fucked. I’m fucked fucked fucked. Oh my god...”
He needed that money yesterday; there was no way Tom would give him more time.
“Can you get it back?” Draco asked through rising panic, “Can you get my wallet back?”
“What?” Potter said.
Draco grabbed the back of the couch and pulled himself up, “My wallet, my money, for my rent? Can you get it back?”
Potter blinked, “It’s… in evidence processing. Even if they can’t find anything, they might pursue a case of misuse of muggle artefacts.”
“It’s a wallet,” Draco said.
“A muggle wallet, that you applied magic modifications to,” Potter said.
Draco’s eyes burned, and he squeezed them shut, “It had my vault key in it. Can I just get that?”
“No, not while-”
“Fine,” Draco shook his head,” fine. fine.” He breathed out, “No money. No flat. And you want to throw me into Azkaban. I think I’d rather die in a ditch.”
Potter just stared at him.
“May I have my wand back?” Draco asked, trying his best to sound polite though he felt anything but, “You took it to check the spells I last used on it, right? Then you know I haven’t used it for anything illegal, and I would like to have it back.”
“What are you going to do with it?” Potter asked warily.
Draco let out a laugh, “Go back to my flat, get kicked out, hope I have enough alcohol left to poison myself.”
Potter’s brow furrowed, “...I’m coming with you.”
Draco thought about arguing, but he didn’t have the will for it.
“I want to verify your story,” Potter said.
“Fine. I don’t care,” Draco said flatly.
Potter hesitantly offered out Draco’s wand, “Can I trust you to side-along me?
“Why are you asking me that? You think I’m a thief and a liar, Potter. That’s the stupidest thing you could have possibly asked me,” Draco said.
Potter’s mouth thinned, “Fine. Just apparate us. And don’t try anything.”
Draco waited for a second more, making sure Potter wasn’t fucking with him before slowly taking his wand.
Potter held his wand at the ready as he turned Draco around, holding on tightly to his shoulder from behind, “Do it.”
Draco sighed and apparated them.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 good job harry, you did it, you ruined his life👍
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything  thank you sooooo much!!! Harry is very much not the good guy, lol, he’s got a few preconceived prejudices to reevaluate  💜
💜 @tenaciousruineroftheinternet thank you!! 💜 💜 💜I hope you like it! 💜
💜 @shadowybook your feeling are correct! 😂 thank you so much!!!! 💜
💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you!💜
💜 @languedor71 :D thank youuuu!!  💜 💜 the boy is practically living off Mary’s tea and kindness lol  💜
💜 @dewitty1 I spoke too soon! the smoke has been a bitch lately but there’s supposed to be a little rain here this week, hope you get some too. 💜 💜thank you sooo much!! 💜
💜 @snarkyship thank you so much!!! :D 💜 💜 💜 💜 I fall a little in love with all my oc’s every time I make one, except the mean ones, those i just love to hate 💜
💜 @iamactuallya-cat  harry is sort of working on being ashamed but he’s a bit too stuck on his ‘malfoy is up to something’ thing right now :/  💜thank you so much!!!! 💜
💜 @devilrising  we’re deep diving into that trauma! it’s gonna be great! 💜 thank you so so so much!!! 💜 💜 💜
💜 @cloack 👍 thank you!
💜 @champagnemonarch  xD thank you! 💜
💜 @chosenpotter thank you!!! 💜
💜 @whenrainbowsend thank you!!! I’m so happy you like it so far!
💜 @justafangirlslikes harry’s very much out of his element 😆 💜thank you!! 💜
💜 @addicted-to-w0rds harry is such a dick lol 💜thank you so much!
💜 @dracodragon19872  💜 @cats-extra-tails  💜
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dorthyanndrarry · a month ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -6-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst
suggested rating: Mature
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 5 || Part 7 ->
Chapter 4
Draco woke up to the sort of shrill scream that only children are capable of. Another child shouted loudly and was a following peel of laughter. A far more tired woman’s voice said something in a chiding tone but was completely ignored.
Draco forced himself to unclench his muscles with a sigh.
“I said it was gonna get loud,” Elle said, her voice sleep rough from the other bed.
Draco groaned dramatically.
Elle laughed faintly, “I didn’t say it was a good thing.”
Draco sat up and did his best not to feel out of place, uncomfortable with invading Elle’s small space, but it was mostly a lost cause.
He made tea and toast for the both of them, though Elle hardly touched hers. She had a migraine. It had started the night before and would likely persist through the day and possibly into the next.  Elle said that the longest migraine she’d ever had lasted nearly two weeks. The medications her doctors prescribed helped a little, but nothing seemed to give her any lasting relief.
Draco mixed some vodka with cranberry juice and headed outside, leaving Elle to rest in a dark room.
Two small children streaked by him, nearly knocking him off his feet.
“Aleena, Darain! Watch where you’re going! Be careful!” Naja shouted. She rushed over to him, “Are you alright-  what was your name again? I’m sorry, I’m terrible with names.”
“Draco. And I’m fine. Just a bit surprised is all,” Draco said.
Naja shook her head, “I’m sorry-”
“It’s fine,” Draco said.
Naja spared him a grateful smile before going back to watching her kids race around the upper balconies, occasionally shouting, their voices echoing around the empty concrete courtyard like a bell.
Her hijab was a bright buttery yellow that looked amazing against her brown skin. She was looking ruffled and tired from chasing after her kids.
“You hijab is a little loose,” Draco said, looking away and tapping the side of his head where her hair had started to slip out.
“Sorry, I’ll fix that- thank you,” Naja said, quickly reaching up to readjust the bright yellow fabric.
“You apologise too much,” Draco said, taking a drink out of his bottle.
“Oh!” Naja jumped and then laughed, “I know. I try not to, but I can’t seem to shake the habit. My mum does it too; I probably picked it up from her.”
She frowned and leaned forward, “Darain! Stay off the railing!”
“OH-KAY,” Darain called across the way.
“I really envy my younger sister,” Naja said, looking back over at Draco. “She never apologises for anything. She just does whatever she wants. I mean, it’s frustrating too, but I wish I could be more like that, you know?”
Draco shrugged his shoulders, “I’m an only child.”
“Oh, I’m sorry-”
“For what?” Draco smiled faintly.
Naja laughed at herself. “I can’t imagine growing up without my sister. I would have been so lonely.”
“My mother doted on me most of the time, but everyone has to be alone sometimes,” Draco said.
Naja nodded to Aleena and Darain, racing each other down the stairs to the courtyard, “That’s why I wanted two, so they would never be lonely.”
Darain jumped onto one of the concrete benches and started making up a story. His sister watched him with mild amusement as if she wasn’t sure whether to laugh at him or join in.
“Actually, I’d like another,” Naja said wistfully, “I mean, not right now. We can’t afford it, and it would be so crazy… but when Fahmi is back, and if we can both get good jobs and save up a little, then, maybe, I would like to have another child.”
“Hmm,” Draco said absently, sipping at his drink.
“Do you ever think about having kids? Or are you too young to think about that sort of thing?” Naja asked.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
“What? Is it the gay thing? Because you could adopt or use a surrogate, you know,” Naja said.
Draco laughed, “I think the bigger concern is that I’m a complete and utter disaster.”
“Not forever, though,” Naja said.
Draco snorted, “I doubt it.”
“Everyone has difficult times in their life. I think you’ll make it through. And have kids, if you want them,” Naja said.
“I’ve never really given it much thought,” Draco said, leaning on the railing. “I suppose I like the idea of being a father, so I could do it right.”
Naja looked over at him curiously. “Right?”
“...I would tell them I was proud of them, if they did well, or just did their best. Even if they failed I would tell them how proud I was of them,” Draco leaned more heavily on the railing, “and that I loved them no matter what.”
“I think you would be a wonderful father,” Naja said.
“At the very least, I would join significantly less cults,” Draco said flatly.
Naja laughed and clapped a hand over her mouth.
Draco grinned.
“Your jokes are horrible,” Naja chided, though she didn’t mean it.
The noise down below stopped abruptly and they both quickly looked down. Aleena and Darain were still in the centre of the courtyard but were watching the entrance archway with wary uncertainty. Draco followed their gaze, and although it was hard to make out much from the second floor, the man’s mop of unruly black hair was enough to guess.
“Does he live in one of the units?” Naja asked.
“No,” Draco said, “but I know him. He’s harmless, well, to anyone but me.”
Potter looked up at the sound of Draco’s voice and frowned, “Malfoy? I need to talk to you.”
“I thought I told you to leave me alone,” Draco flipped him off with a sneer.
“Is he someone from-” Naja’s voice dropped to a whisper, “the cult?”
Draco grinned crookedly at the idea and then reluctantly shook his head. “No. He’s, well, in school, did you have someone who was popular and good at sports and well-liked by the professors? That’s him,” he pointed at Potter. “I fucking loathed him in school.”
“Was he a bully?” Naja asked.
“Malfoy,” Potter said more sternly.
Draco grinned and took a large swallow of his cocktail before answer, “No. Not particularly.”
Draco shrugged, “I’m sure he would say I was the bully. Though, I would argue not always.”
Naja’s mouth made an ‘Oh’ shape.
“Can you blame me? I mean, look at him,” Draco waved down at Potter, “He’s completely full of himself, never been wrong in his life, hero of the ages, that one.”
“Malfoy,” Potter said, narrowing his eyes, “If you don’t come down here, I’ll come up to you.”
Draco rolled his eyes and pushed himself up, “Keep your pants on, Potter.”
Naja followed him down to the courtyard, going over to her kids.
“What?” Draco demanded before he even got close to Potter.
The muscle in Potter’s jaw twitched, “I want to make up for yesterday.”
Draco snorted.
“I mean it, Malfoy,” Potter said, reaching into his pocket and taking out an envelope thick with paper notes.
Draco had to laugh. “You think money can fix this?”
Potter stepped closer, holding the envelope out, “Here.”
“My flat is gone, Potter. Rented out to someone else,” Draco said.
Potter's mouth twitched, and he moved the envelope closer until it brushed Draco’s chest.
“And the last thing I want is your money,” Draco said, looking down at the envelope and the ugly t-shirt he was still wearing. He grabbed the front of it and plucked at it distastefully. “I’ll return your clothes. Just give me a second to copy them and-”
“You can keep them,” Potter said.
Draco narrowed his eyes, “I don’t-”
“I want to go to the park!!” Darain shouted, his small face furrowed in childish fury.
Naja nodded, her expression strained, “I know you do. I would like to go there as well, but we have to go shopping for dinner-”
“No!” Darain yelled, stomping his foot, “Papa would take me to the park. If Papa was here, he would take me!”
“Papa will be home as soon as he can-”
“I want to go to the park! I want to go on the swings!” Darain demanded.
Standing behind Naja, Aleena looked as if she would have given anything just to make the yelling stop. She looked so small and lost in the background, just trying not to make things worse.
Draco shoved the envelope back at Potter and walked over to Naja.
“I can go shopping for you if you’ll write me a list,” Draco said.
“Oh, I couldn’t-”
“MUM!” Darain yelled.
Aleena winced, looking from her brother to Naja.
“I insist,” Draco said.
Naja bit her lip and nodded, “I have a list already...” She patted her pockets until she found a list folded in half around a few tenners. “You really don’t have to-”
“I’m not doing anything else today,” Draco said.
“Okay,” Naja said, giving him the list, “I really, really do appreciate this.”
“It’s no problem,” Draco said.
“In exchange-”
“It's alright, I don't need-”
“In exchange,” Naja said insistently, “You’ll come have dinner with us tonight. As a thank you.”
Draco sighed, “Very well. If I must.”
“Yes, you must,” Naja said with a smile. Then she turned to Darain, “Fine. We’re going to the park-”
“YES!” Darain threw up his hands.
“-but on the way, we’re going to talk about your behaviour.”
“Aww,” Darain muttered, jumping off the bench.
Naja shook her head, taking Aleena’s hand and putting her other arm around Darain’s shoulders, talking to him quietly as they made their way out of the courtyard.
Draco turned back to Potter, “You’re still here.”
“I’m not leaving until we sort this out,” Potter said.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Draco asked, “A job to attend to? You’re an auror, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be out there-” he waved a hand vaguely in the direction of central London, “-saving the world or something? It’s what you’re good at.”
Potter clenched his jaw, the muscle in his cheek jumping, “I took a personal day to sort this out.”
“As one takes a day off for a Healers appointment,” Draco said flippantly, “just sort it out during the afternoon, take a long lunch, no problem-”
“Malfoy,” Potter interrupted, “I am trying to make this right.”
“Oh, so you have a time-turner then?” Draco said.
“No. Fuck. Malfoy, just- just take the money, you prat-” Potter held out the envelope.
“No,” Draco said, stepping back.
“Are you serious?!” Potter threw up his hands. “What is wrong with you? Why can’t you just-”
“Make you feel better about being an arsehole?” Draco said, taking a large swallow from his bottle.
Potter stopped, “That’s not it.”
“Isn’t it?” Draco said, “You think you can just give me money and then you don’t have to feel guilty anymore.”
Potter scowled at him.
“I mean, at least you feel guilty this time. The last time you tried to kill me with your recklessness, you didn’t even bother caring,” Draco said.
“That- that was different,” Potter protested, “there was a war-”
“You started dating that Ginny Weasley while I was still in the infirmary. It was the same day, wasn’t it? Did you stop to clean my blood off first? Or just-”
“That was different,” Potter said stiffly.
“I’ll take the guilt,” Draco said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a little errand ‘to sort out’.”
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything thank you so much 😍💕💕💕💕
💜 @slyther-ink  :D thank you so much!!!! 
💜 @whenrainbowsend lol, harry is so out of his depth 💜 thank you!!!
💜 @shadowybook poor harry, he’s still working on hogwarts rules but draco’s moved on 💜thank you soooooo much!💕
💜 @justafangirlslikes thank you!!!! 💜 💜 💜 
💜  @languedor71  lol draco was only patient when he thought he could make harry go away, no such luck 💜thank you!!! 💜
💜 @lilyinthebreeze thank you so muchhhhh 💜 💜 harry is such a shit :D it’s a delight 💜
💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you! 💜
💜 @cloack :D yay! thank you! 💜
💜 @dewitty1 harry has a lot of lessons to learn 💜thank youuuuu!!! 💜
💜 @onomtonks thank you! he’s such a bitch and I love him  💜
💜 @snarkyship 😮OOOOOoooooHHH! OOOH! that’s so true! I hadn’t thought of it that way but yeah! that’s frickin cool!  💜 💜ThankYou!!! 💜 💜
💜 @iamactuallya-cat harry making a mess of trying to fix his mess, classic 💜thank you! 💜
💜 @idareyoutotakealook 👍👍AWW yeah!! thank you! I’m glad you like it so far! 💜
💜 @chosenpotter thank you! 💜
💜 @dracodragon19872 harry is bad at being a person, i relate so hard lol 💜thank you!!!!! 💜 💜 💜
💜 @champagnemonarch  💜thank you!
💜 @devilrising harry is soo confused 💜 thanks for coming along for the ride!!! 
💜 @addicted-to-w0rds  💜 @jukeboxuranium 💜 @onomtonks 💜 @cats-extra-tails 💜  
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dorthyanndrarry · a month ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -9-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst, mentions of throwing up/vomit
suggested rating: Mature
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 8 || Part 10 ->
Draco threw up in the middle of the atrium. Unfortunately, it had barely touched the floor before a mediwitch vanished it with a cleaning spell. He felt rather disappointed he hadn’t managed to ruin someone’s shoes. He was in a mood to spread his misery around.
The atrium was crowded, with the welcome witch, busy healers, mediwitches, and quite a collection of sick people. Draco had expected to be the centre of a storm of malicious glares and muttered curses, but it seemed everyone was far too distracted by Potter being in their midst. Some of them stared at him with open-mouthed awe. They whispered about him and pointed like he was a particularly rare and interesting animal in the zoo.
Potter was pretending very hard not to notice. His expression was carefully blank and focused on the welcome witch at the front desk, but Draco was close enough to see the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.
Potter leaned across the desk to speak with the welcome witch in quiet, hushed tones. Draco wondered if this would end up in the paper and what they would say; what would people think about Harry Potter being seen with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco noticed some young woman watching Potter’s back with stars in her eyes, shifting nervously from foot to foot. She took a few hesitant steps towards them, screwing up her courage until she finally noticed Draco at his side and stopped dead in her tracks.
“This way, Malfoy,” Potter said, tugging on Draco’s arm until he started moving again.
They walked down one of the back hallways. Every now and then, Potter paused to look at signs on the walls. Draco spent every pause closing his eyes and wishing for death.
The number of people in the hallway dropped the further they walked. The lighting charms got weaker and occasionally flickered overhead the further they went.
A final and ominous set of double doors was marked by the plaque at the top that read ‘MIND HEALING WING’ in all caps.
“I feel like I’m going to be smothered in my sleep if I stay here,” Draco muttered.
“You are not,” Potter said, heading towards a wide scuffed desk.
Draco shrugged, trailing behind him, “There are worse ways to die.”
There was no one at the front desk. Potter leaned over to look behind the desk, then glared down the hallway, “Hello? Anyone here?”
A door clicked open further down the way, and a woman looked out and then hurried down the hall to the desk. She was very short, maybe five feet tall, and looked Filipina, with dark brown eyes, her straight black hair cut into a cute bob. She was wearing the pale yellow robes of the mind healers wing, and her name tag read Iris.
“Hi! Sorry! One of our receptionists is out sick, so we’re a little short-staffed,” Iris said cheerfully.
“That’s alright,” Potter said, “The welcome witch told me to come back here. But this can’t be the right place. Malfoy needs a potion or something, not a mind healer.”
Iris grabbed the chair and spun it around, resting her knee on the cushion as she picked up a folder stuffed thick with paper, “I hope I’m not overstepping, but are you here for our detox program?”
“I’d also take a killing curse to the forehead,” Draco said, slumping on the top of the desk.
“Understandable,” Iris said, her eyes crinkling at the corners like she was hiding a conspiratorial smile, “Well, you’re in the right place then.”
Iris flipped open the folder and took out a packet of papers. She frowned slightly to herself before setting them on the desk. “In order to take part in St Mungo’s monitored, medi-magic detox, you have to make a commitment to a minimum of three months of therapy, twice a week groups therapy and at least three one-on-one meetings with one of our mind-healers.”
“I’ll take death,” Draco said.
Potter was unimpressed and ignored Draco, “Don’t mind him. Malfoy has a thing for dramatics.”
“I do not,” Draco muttered.
“If it were up to me, I’d rather give people all the help they need and just encourage them to make use of our therapy programs. I’m always afraid putting such stipulations in front of treatment might result in someone suffering through something they don’t have to.” Iris picked up a pen and tapped it on the desk absently, “But it’s the council’s decision, and they give us our funding, and that’s stretched thin as it is.”
Iris slid the papers in front of Draco, “I know you don’t feel well, but please take your time and read through this carefully. I’m happy to help as well as your advocate if you have any issues.”
“Advocate?” Potter said.
“You are here as Mr Malfoy’s health advocate?” Iris asked.
Potter’s brow furrowed.
“Because if you’re not family or acting as his health advocate, I’m going to need you to step back,” Iris said.
“What?” Potter said.
“We take our patient’s privacy very seriously,” Iris said.
Potter looked from Iris to Draco and then shrugged, walking away from the desk and sitting in one of the stiffly upholstered orange chairs along the wall.
“Do you have any questions?” Iris asked.
Draco tapped the paper, “It says it can take anywhere from three days to weeks?”
“Well, we treat all kinds of addiction, from muggle to magic, and they all require different care. Each person is unique as well,” Iris said. She leaned back on the chair, half kneeling, half standing.
“I can’t be here that long. Three… five days at the most,” Draco said.
“Well, what are you withdrawing from?” Iris asked.
“Alcohol,” Draco said.
Iris nodded, “That shouldn’t be a problem so long as no complications pop up. I’ll make a note in your file.”
“I have a file?” Draco asked.
“You do now,” Iris said with a smile, “Now, let’s get you checked in.”
Draco spent the next couple of days in a haze. Potions put him to sleep and kept him fed; they settled his stomach and numbed his pain. All-in-all it felt like a fever dream that he couldn’t quite wake up from.
The potions wore off a few days later, and Draco blinked himself out of a haze, his eyes slowly focusing on the white plastered ceilings, the lighting charms doing an uncanny job of mimicking the painfully bright halogen lights found in many muggle buildings. He pushed himself up with a groan and rubbed his hands over his face, feeling a faint scrub of stubble under his fingers.
“Oh, you’re awake,” A voice said, sounding profoundly disappointed.
Draco looked over at the bed next to his. Sitting on top of the bed, legs crossed, elbows propped on her knees, was the most exhausted human being Draco had ever seen in his life. The woman’s long black locks fell in front of her shoulders and face, only partly obscuring her bloodshot eyes and blending in with her dark brown skin.
“You’re watching me?” Draco asked, his voice rough from sleep.
“Living vicariously through you,” She said, blinking painfully slowly. “Going off sleeping potions.”
“Oh,” Draco said. He glanced around. They were in a long narrow room, beds against one wall. Most of the beds were obscured from their neighbours and the rest of the room by screens. Jasmine had apparently moved the screen between their beds.
“Can’t fall asleep normally anymore. Feel like I’m losing all my marbles,” the tired woman said.
“Well, you’re in the right place for it,” Draco said.
The tired woman managed to crack a faint smile, “Yeah. I guess.”
At the end of the long ward, the door opened with a soft click, and Iris slipped inside, walking straight to Draco.
“Good morning!” Iris said cheerfully, “Or afternoon. Whichever you prefer.”
Draco pulled his feet back as Iris sat on the end of the bed.
“How are you doing today, Jasmine?” Iris asked the tired woman.
“Like this is hell, and I am being punished for all eternity,” Jasmine said.
“Have you been meditating and working on your mindfulness exercises?” Iris asked.
“My eyes feel like they’re full of ground glass,” Jasmine said flatly.
“That we can do something about,” Iris said, “Go to the mediwitch and get some eye-soothing solution. It will help. And maybe some camomile tea?”
“Fine,” Jasmine slowly slid off the edge of her bed, bare feet slapping loudly on the tiled floor as she went down to the end of the ward.
“How are you feeling, Mr Malfoy?” Iris asked.
“Well enough,” Draco said, “Will I be able to leave?”
“Let’s see...” Iris said, drawing her wand. She cast a series of spells Draco didn’t recognise, each one bathing him a different aura.
“I knew you were a healer,” Draco said, smirking faintly.
“Oh?” Iris said.
“I suspected it when we met, but I thought it was funny, Potter treating you like a receptionist,” Draco said.
“That was a bit funny, wasn’t it?” Iris’ eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled.
Draco raised an eyebrow, “It didn’t bother you?”
“I have better things to worry about,” Iris said, “Besides, I’m sure Mr Potter has forgotten about me by now; there’s no point in taking it personally when he didn’t mean it personally.”
Draco blinked, “That’s… I wish I could think that way.”
Iris flicked her wand and dispelled the spells around Draco. “So, what are you in such a hurry to get to?”
“When you first came here, you said you could only stay three to five days,” Iris said.
“How long has it been?” Draco asked, suddenly worried.
“Four days. No need to worry,” Iris said.
“Oh… good,” Draco said, relaxing.
Iris looked at him expectantly.
“...It’s- I usually get groceries for Mary-”
“Mary?” Iris asked.
“She lives in my apartment complex,” Draco said.
“And you get her groceries?” Iris said.
“She has trouble getting around. If she fell, she might get hurt,” Draco said.
“Hmm,” Iris said, tilting her head, “She asked you to do this for you? Is there no one else who could do it for you?”
“I- No, I volunteered. Mary wouldn’t ask; she’s stubborn like that,” Draco said, stumbling over his words, feeling off-balance. “Why are you asking?”
“As your designated mind-healer, I want to get to know you,” Iris said.
“You are?”
“I am,” Iris said, her smile growing. “Have you ever talked to a mind healer or therapist before?”
Draco shook his head.
“I promise I don’t bite,” Iris said.
Draco smiled briefly.
“You seem very different now from when we first met,” Iris said.
“Oh, that’s Potter’s fault. He brings out the worst in me,” Draco said with a frown.
“Hm, so you don’t think it’s a difference from being sober?” Iris said.
“No,” Draco shook his head.
“But Mr Potter, he ‘brings out the worst in you’?” Iris said.
“Obviously,” Draco said.
“You went to school together, didn’t you?” Iris said.
“Yes,” Draco said warily.
“So, this ‘worst of you’, is it more of a reflection of who you were at school with Mr Potter?” Iris asked.
Draco made a face and shrugged flippantly, “I was young and stupid.”
“We all start out young and stupid. That’s part of growing up,” Iris said.
Draco snorted, “And do we all start out blood suprematists that end up on the wrong side of the war?”
“You weren’t the only child in the war, Draco,” Iris said, “We are the product of our upbringing, and quite often, it can take us a long time to become our own person.”
Draco narrowed his eyes.
Iris smiled and looked up at the ceiling, tapping her finger against her chin theatrically, “What would you say to the boy who was you if he was right in front of you right now?”
“Stop being a little prick,” Draco said flatly.
Iris smiled briefly, “That’s a good start. But I’d like you to remember that boy as he was, for all his faults, and remember his hopes and dreams, the things he yearned for-”
Draco frowned.
“-remember the games he played and the things that upset him-”
“What’s the point of this?” Draco asked.
“Remember that little boy and imagine if you could talk to him right now, would you tell him to stop being a prick?”
Draco’s frown grew.
“Would you tell him he was the worst in you?” Iris asked.
Draco squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back the sting of tears and looked away. “What’s the point of this?” he asked stiffly.
“That there’s nothing wrong with having compassion for the child you were. Remembering that you were a child,” Iris said.
“I thought you said you didn’t bite,” Draco groused, rubbing his eyes.
Iris laughed.
“That stung quite a bit.”
“But it’s the good kind of pain,” Iris said.
Draco glared at her.
“I promise,” Iris said. “I’m not saying you can’t regret what happened in the past and grow past it but hating an entire facet of yourself-”
“That’s not me anymore,” Draco said.
“Not exactly you, but it’s still a part of you. Everything we live through becomes a part of us and changes who we are, not always but-”
“Not always?” Draco said.
Iris sighed, “I hate talking in absolutes. Very few things in the world are absolute… except maths, and I’ve never been very good at maths.”
Draco smiled faintly.
“I just think it’s healthier to accept even those parts of ourselves that give us the most difficulty because you can’t work through something you won’t even acknowledge is there,” Iris said.
Jasmine padded back over and threw herself face-first onto her bed with a groan.
“This was a good first meeting,” Iris said, “I think I’m going to put you in my new group. We’ll meet here, in the mind healing wing, in conference room four, twice a week on tuesdays and thursdays at two.”
“What day is it?” Draco asked.
“I’ll get you a calendar and a copy of the schedule.” Iris smiled and stood up, “Come on, I’ll get you checked out, and we can go over a few more things.”
Draco slowly slid his legs off the bed, his body stiff and aching from the long bed rest.
“And Jasmine, when I come back, we’re going to have a chat,” Iris said.
Jasmine groaned into her pillow.
“Unless you manage to fall asleep, of course,” Iris added.
Jasmine added a muffled, ‘oh fuck off’.
“I always enjoy our talks as well,” Iris said.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 everyone say hello to Iris!🥰 💜
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything thank you so much!!!!! 💜 💜 💜
💜 @slyther-ink I always wanted a fic where harry calls draco princess(derogatory) I think it’s very funny 💜 💜 thank you so much!! 💜  
💜 @justafangirlslikes  thank you!! 🥰💜
💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you! 💜
💜 @shadowybook Thank YOUUUUUU!!!!!! 💜 💜
💜 @dewitty1 thank you so much!!!! 💜 
💜 @languedor71 thank you!!! so much!!!  I lke them too 💜 💜
💜 @onomtonks thank you!!! 💜
💜 @snarkyship they’d get along a lot faster but harry is being difficult🤔 what a big baby, just open up and be emotionally venerable with your old school rival that you almost killed once! lol💜 thank oyu sooooo much!!! 💜
💜 @chosen-potter thank you!
💜 @addicted-to-w0rds the danish is very important XD  💜thank you! 💜
💜 @cloack thank you!! there is so much more to go! 💜 💜 💜
💜 @devilrising they’ve been through some shit together 💜 thank you soooooo much!!!! 💜
💜 @dracodragon19872 thank you so much!!! creativity and inspiration are very rude to ignore my writing schedule and just do whatever they like XD 💜 💜 💜
💜 @champagnemonarch  💜 @cats-extra-tails  💜  
92 notes · View notes
dorthyanndrarry · a month ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -5-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst
suggested rating: Mature
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 4 || Part 6 ->
They landed back by the bins behind the apartment block. Draco grimaced as his feet hit the rough asphalt.
“Where are we?” Potter asked, looking around at the sour-smelling back alley.
“I need to duplicate your shoes,” Draco said.
“I need to make a copy of your shoes,” Draco said.
“Didn’t have time to steal a pair?” Potter said.
“You took my clothes, Potter. Was I supposed to stand around in my pants until you returned?” Draco said.
“They weren’t real clothes,” Potter said.
“They covered my dick well enough,” Draco said.
Potter blinked.
“Fine,” Draco said flatly, carefully walking around the bins and heading to the pavements.
“Wait, Malfoy- Just copy them,” Potter said, hurrying after him.
“No. Fuck you,” Draco said stubbornly.
The concrete pavement was easier to walk on. Draco kept his eyes on his feet to avoid cracks and broken glass.
“Malfoy-” Potter called.
Tom sat outside his apartment door on a cheap plastic chair and put on a nasty smile when he spotted Draco. “Where’s my rent, Malfoy?”
“I don’t have it,” Draco said, shooting a vicious glare over his shoulder at Potter, “It was stolen.”
Tom snorted, “Sure it was. Doesn’t matter, even if you did. I already rented the place out.”
Draco’s shoulders slumped even though he knew it was going to happen.
“They’re movin’ in tomorrow, so get your shite out, or it’ll go in the bins,” Tom said.
Draco wanted to tell Tom exactly where he could shove it and then transfigure him into a slug, but he bit down on his tongue.
“Err… it’s my fault he doesn’t have rent,” Potter said.
“So?” Tom snorted again. He told Draco, “Maybe your new sugar-daddy can find you somewhere else to live.”
“I’m not his sugar-daddy,” Potter said quickly. “We’re not- we’re not, uh, dating.” He looked flustered.
“I don’t fuckin’ care,” Tom said.
“Are there any other flats I could rent?” Draco asked.
“No,” Tom said.
Draco took a deep breath, “...Are there any flats opening up?”
“Only if Mary kicks the bucket,” Tom said.
“Don’t say that,” Draco snapped.
Tom laughed, and Draco had to leave before he punched the prick, going through the empty courtyard and practically running up the stairs.
“Draco! Hey, man! You alright?!” Samuel called.
He was standing next to Elle, sitting in her armchair. They were sharing a spliff back and forth, out of eyesight of Tom down below.
Draco paused and decided his flat could wait, walking over to them, “Did you hear what Tom said?”
Samuel nodded.
“I’m so sorry, Draco,” Elle said.
Samuel passed him the blunt, and Draco took it gratefully, breathing in deep until he felt dizzy. 
“Who’s this?” Elle asked.
Draco handed the blunt back to Samuel as he turned, frowning at Potter walking up behind him.
Draco breathed out into his face, “Potter.”
“Harry,” Potter said, waving the smoke away with a cough, “uh, Harry Potter.”
Samuel narrowed his eyes, “And you’re the reason Draco doesn’t have rent?”
“Err...” Potter rubbed the back of his neck, having the fucking audacity to look embarrassed.
“You warned me it, Samuel, all it takes is one bad guy,” Draco said, throwing up his hands, “Although you were probably thinking in terms of a serial killer, not a fucking wizard cop with a chip on his shoulder who stole my wallet in an effort arrest me for doing nothing-!”
“Malfoy, don’t tell them-”
“He stole your wallet?” Elle said.
“Is he a real cop, Draco?” Samuel asked suspiciously. “Or a part of your wizard cult thing?”
“He’s a real cop to wizards, but he can’t touch you,” Draco said.
Potter was glaring at him.
Draco ignored him.
“I have a very limited jurisdiction,” Potter said carefully.
Samuel and Elle exchanged a look.
“Are you okay?” Elle asked, “I’ve never seen you this worked up before.”
“That’s his fault,” Draco shooting a glare back at Potter, “He brings out the worst in me.”
“Just give him his wallet back, man,” Samuel told Potter.
Elle nodded.
“I’ll get it back to him as soon as he’s been cleared of all charges,” Potter said.
“None of which I’ve committed,” Draco said.
Samuel shook his head, muttering under his breath, “fuckin’ cops.”
Potter’s chin jerked up slightly, but he didn’t say anything.
“Did I ever tell you, Draco, I got picked up by a cop when I was twelve?” Samuel said to Draco, very deliberately ignoring Potter, “He said I matched the description of some suspect and threw me in this holding cell with a bunch of other guys. There were so many of us we could barely move around. And some of the guys in there were proper rough.”
“That’s horrid,” Elle said.
“It messed me up good,” Samuel said.
Elle took the joint and drag from it.
“Elle, he’s a cop,” Samuel said.
“And I’m a white lady,” Elle said, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s got to be good for something. It’s sure as fuck useless for getting any sort of medical diagnosis. Other than crazy and too fat.”
“You got somewhere to stay, Draco?” Samuel asked.
“I’ll find something,” Draco said.
“Don’t be stupid,” Elle said, “I can make room in my place.”
“We can fit your bed in next to mine. Sam will help, won’t you?” Elle said.
Samuel nodded.
“I don’t want to get in your way,” Draco said.
Elle raised an eyebrow, “You remember when I lost my benefits, and you found that food bank and brought me food every week,  so I didn’t starve while I was getting them back? It’s only fair I get to help you out now.”
Draco shook his head, “Tom might kick you out if he finds out you’re letting me live in your flat.”
“You’ll be my guest. It will be fine,” Elle said.
“If he starts being shitty about it, we can just move your mattress to mine,” Samuel said.
“And I’m sure Mary would let you use her couch,” Elle said.
Samuel chuckled, “She’d be thrilled.”
“Can you die from eating too many biscuits?” Draco asked with faux concern.
Elle laughed and stood up slowly. “Samuel, will you help me move some things out of the way?”
Samuel nodded. He glanced at Harry suspiciously before taking the blunt back from Elle and taking a hit.
“You get your things,” Elle told Draco.
“Very well,” Draco said, “...Thank you.”
“You’d do the same for us,” Elle said.
Draco nodded.
Samuel gave Draco the cigarette before following Elle into her apartment.
Draco put the blunt to his lips and took the stairs up one more floor to his room, trying to ignore Potter’s plodding footsteps behind him. He pushed the door open to his room.
“You don’t lock your door?” Potter asked.
Draco turned around and held out the spliff.
“What?” Potter said.
“It might help you calm the fuck down,” Draco said.
Potter shook his head, “No, I can’t-”
Draco put the spliff to his lips and blew a stream of smoke into Potter’s face.
“Hey!” Potter coughed.
Draco ignored him and went inside.
How it looked never mattered to Draco, it was just a place to sleep and drink. But seeing it now, as Potter must be seeing it, made Draco feel embarrassed, and irritated that he even cared what Potter thought.
At least it wasn’t dirty; Draco always vanished the empty bottles and used plenty of cleaning charms. But there wasn’t much else to the room. A narrow bed and cheap plywood dresser set next to it was the only furniture, picked up from the curb near some university dorms.
Draco sighed and just tried to ignore Potter.
“You live here?” Potter asked in dismay.
Draco took the last drag from the fag end of the cigarette and dropped it in the sink as he passed. He went over to the dresser and pulled out a drawer containing a single folded up winter robe. He couldn’t remember the last time he wore it. He jerked the drawer out and carried it over to the kitchen, pushing the robe into a corner and pulling open the fridge.
“You know it’s against the Statute of Secrecy to tell muggles we’re wizards,” Potter said.
Draco rolled his eyes as he moved bottles of juice into his makeshift box, “They don’t believe me.”
“Then why tell them? You could be arrested,” Potter said.
“Shockingly enough, Potter,” Draco said sarcastically, “I never expected to encounter another wizard here.”
“But… I don’t understand why,” Potter said.
Draco closed the fridge door hard and stared at the yellow-white surface of the refrigerator.
“Why risk it?” Potter asked.
Draco turned around and held out his arms, “Look at me.”
Potter looked at him, but was mostly just confused.
“Imagine some scrawny blond twat with a posh accent, and a pretty face moves into the shittiest flat for miles, but somehow, he has absolutely nothing to his name and no idea how anything muggle works to the point of utter absurdity. People are rather suspicious of that sort of thing.” Draco said. 
He pulled open the freezer and grabbed the half-empty bottle of vodka. “So, rather than having people assume I’m a murderer or like to diddle children, I tell them I’m a wizard raised in a cult.” He slammed the freezer shut, “Then they just think I’m fucking crazy.”
“Uhm...” Potter eased the bathroom door open to look inside, “...It’s hard to imagine you, living here. I figured you’d be in one of those big empty flats full of expensive white furniture.”
Draco opened the cupboard next to the fridge and grabbed the nearly full bottle of whiskey and an almost empty bottle of rum. The bottles clinked as he sat them on top of one another.
“Why here? Why not somewhere nicer?” Potter asked.
Draco sighed and turned to look at him, “Because I couldn’t, Potter. The muggle equivalency papers I got from the Ministry amounted to a birth certificate and a paper saying I passed my GCSE exams, which I suppose are the equivalent to the OWL’s.” 
He ticked off on his fingers, “I have no work history, no history of living anywhere, no evidence of income or savings, and no higher education certifications. I barely exist. Barely. Tom only rented to me because I paid cash. I think it was all under the table, but I never got up the nerve to ask.”
“Oh,” Potter said astutely.
‘Oh,’ Draco mouthed mockingly.
Potter frowned but there was a knock on the door before he could say anything.
 Draco stepped around Potter and pulled it open.
“Ready to go?” Samuel asked.
“I’ll help you carry the mattress,” Draco said, swinging the door open and going to the bed, pinning the pillow under his arm and picking up one end.
Samuel nodded and picked up the other end, walking it out of the door.
“Go away, Potter,” Draco said as they went past him, “Just leave me alone.”
Potter said nothing, turning to watch him go.
Samuel had pushed Elle’s bed up against the wall to make space for Draco beside the dresser and clothes hamper.
When Draco went back to get the drawer filled with his meagre belongings, Potter was gone. Left in the middle of the floor, where Potter had been standing, was a pair of worn sneakers. Draco considered vanishing them but eventually decided to slip them on his bare feet. They would have to do for now.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything thank you so much!!!!🥰💕💕
💜 @lilyinthebreeze thank you!!! harry is a bit of a shit isn’t he lol
💜 @iamactuallya-cat Thank you so so so so much!!!!! 💜 In the original wywdm I mostly focused on Draco’s mental health but we’re gonna explore harry this time too 😁 💜 and i’m afraid we probably won’t see laura again 
💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you!
💜 @dewitty1 harry jumping in first, asking questions later is classic, love that impulsive meathead 💜thank you so much!!!
💜 @justafangirlslikes yeah, good stuff 💜thank you!!!! 💜
💜 @cats-extra-tails 😒cops man, and child soldiers with hero complexes 💜thank you 💜 💜 💜
💜 @languedor71 thank you soooo much!!! 💜 harry is such a pillock :D💜
💜 @whenrainbowsend  me too :/  💜thank you!!! 💜
💜 @hmmihaventdecidedyet  :D 💜thank you!💜
💜 @onomtonks 😉 💜thank you! 💜
💜 @jukeboxuranium thank youuuuuu 💜
💜 @chosenpotter 💜thank you!!💜
💜 @snarkyship he is such a twat >:( 💜 love him tho 💜thank you!!! 💜
💜 @champagnemonarch :D 💜thank you!
💜 @cloack thank youuu 💜all my writing is on ao3, under DorthyAnn, you can find a link on the pinned comment on my page💜
💜 @devilrising ah harry’s saviour complex :) he’s such a good boy, or wants to think he is💜 💜 thank you so so so much!!!!! 💜 💜 
💜 @addicted-to-w0rds 😁 💜thank you!!!! 💜
💜 @tenaciousruineroftheinternet  💜 @dracodragon19872  💜  
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dorthyanndrarry · a month ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -7-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst
suggested rating: Mature
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 6 || Part 8 ->
Draco leaned back against the door to Elle’s apartment as he shut it, Elle and her brother’s voice coming through the thin wood.
“-he’s a friend-”
“You can barely take care of yourself, the last thing you need-”
“Ryan,” Elle interrupted, “he just needs a place to stay. He’s just sleeping here until he gets some money problems sorted out.”
“And how long is that going to take?” Ryan said, “You don’t know, do you?”
“And you know that it doesn’t work like that,” Elle said.
“Why can’t you just move back in with Mum, Ellen? She has your old room-”
“So she can micromanage every aspect of my life while treating me like I’m made of glass? I’d rather go back to the group home,” Elle said.
“Don’t say that-”
“You left. You don’t know what it was like-”
Draco stepped away, sipping from his half-empty whiskey and coke as he hurried down the stairs.
“Ey, Draco,” Samuel said, looking up at the sound of his footsteps. The skin under his eyes was puffy with weariness, and he held a large insulated mug in both hands.
“Since when do you drink coffee?” Draco asked, dropping onto the bench beside him, “Caffeine seems like-”
“A bad idea?” Samuel finished for him, “Yeah. Makes me jumpy as fuck.”
“Long night?” Draco asked.
“A lotta long nights,” Samuel said.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
“The other dishwasher walked out, and the boss asked me to cover his shifts until he can hire someone new,” Samuel asked.
“So you’re working double shifts?” Draco asked.
“Seven days a week, every night,” Samuel said, shaking his head, “It wouldn’t be too bad, but I’ve got other things to do, y’know? So when I gotta run to the shops or the bank or whatever- it gets a little rough.”
“Can’t you ask for time off?” Draco asked.
Samuel frowned faintly, rubbing the back of his head, “I mean… I could; I just don’t want to risk messing this thing up. I need this job.”
“I could cover a few days for you,” Draco suggested.
Samuel raised an eyebrow, “I doubt you’ve ever worked a day in your life. No offence.”
“None taken. But I’m fairly certain I could manage. For two or three days,” Draco said. “Probably.”
Samuel chuckled and shook his head.
“Look, if you show me how to do everything, I’m certain I can do it,” Draco said.
“I wish I had your confidence, man,” Samuel said.
“It’s better than working yourself to death,” Draco said.
Samuel’s grin grew, “I’m tougher than that.”
“Just because I haven’t worked before doesn’t mean I can’t,” Draco said. “I’ll have you know, I was a very adept learner in school.”
“In what?” Samuel joked, “Curses and hexes?”
“Curses and hexes are a subset of Charms,” Draco said, “You would know that if you were a proper wizard.”
“Sure, man.”
“So?” Draco said.
Samuel thought about it for a while and then nodded, “Alright. I’ll call my boss and see if he’d be game for you to step in for a few days. Monday and tuesday are usually pretty light. Just, probably best if you don’t bring up the wizard stuff.”
“I’m not supposed to talk about it to non-wizarding folk, anyway,” Draco said.
“Yeah, good. I’ll be right back,” Samuel said, standing up and heading over to his ground floor apartment. He stopped and turned around, “That cop of yours was hanging around here earlier.”
“What happened to him?” Draco asked.
“He was sitting on the bench across from me, and he up and left. He must not have liked how I was looking at him,” Samuel said, pulling open his door and stepping inside.
Draco could just imagine the look Samuel had been giving Potter. Samuel had a ‘leave me alone’ stare that could make the most hardened individual feel deeply uncomfortable.
Draco sighed and stood up, stepping out of the courtyard and looking around.
Potter was leaning against the outside wall chewing on his thumbnail, somehow contriving to look even worse than Samuel.
“You look like shit,” Draco said.
Potter’s head jerked up, and he glared at Draco with red-rimmed eyes, his hair in a particularly unpleasant mess, “No thanks to you.”
“Did telling you ‘no’ bruise your little ego?” Draco asked.
“I had nightmares all night because of what you said,” Potter said.
“Boohoo,” Draco said sarcastically, “I feel so sorry for you. As if I wasn’t racked with nightmares for years about nearly dying in a flooded bathroom at the hands of an idiot.”
Potter scowled down at his feet.
“Why won’t you just go away, Potter?” Draco said, truly exasperated.
“Are you actually going to work for that guy?” Potter asked, completely ignoring Draco’s question.
“Yes,” Draco said.
“But you wouldn’t take my money,” Potter said.
Draco snorted, “It’s not about the money, he could use a break, and I want to help.”
“But you do need money,” Potter said.
Draco rolled his eyes, “I don’t want your money, Potter.”
Potter turned his glare to Draco, “The money I offered you was just to replace the thousand from your wallet. It was a loan to help you out until I could get your stuff out of processing, which I have been trying to do.”
Draco sighed, “I don’t want your money.”
“Then what do you want?” Potter asked.
“For you to go away, as I have said, numerous times,” Draco said.
“Well, that’s not going to happen,” Potter said.
“You are such a stubborn arsehole,” Draco said.
“Says you, prick,” Potter shot back.
Draco shook his head, “You can’t ‘fix’ this. You can’t save me like some sort of damsel in distress.”
“Well, that’s true. You’re definitely not a damsel in distress. I couldn’t think of a worse description for you,” Potter said sarcastically. “You’re more of a henchman. Or a sentient cactus.”
Draco laughed.
“...What?” Potter was staring at him.
“Sentient cactus,” Draco repeated, “I like that.”
Potter looked away with a frown.
The sound of a door shutting and footsteps heralded the return of Samuel, who stopped right under the archway leading out onto the pavement.
Samuel paused to throw a glare at Potter before turning his back to him and talking only to Draco. “I talked to my manager. He said he’d be game, but it’s going to be unofficial-like because he doesn’t want to deal with all the paperwork just for a temp. So I’ll pay you out of my wages, alright?”
Draco nodded, “That’s fine. When do I- we work? It’s almost time, isn’t it?” He glanced up at the sun, making its way into late afternoon.
Samuel shook his head, “It’s saturday. Tomorrow, I’ll show you how to do everything during the first half of my shift when it’s quieter, and then, if everything works out, you can take over on monday.”
“Tomorrow, then,” Draco said.
Samuel smiled tiredly, “And, thanks, man.”
“No problem,” Draco said.
Samuel held out his hand for a fist bump before headed towards the tube station.
Potter didn’t speak until Samuel was out of sight, “Do you really not know what day it is?”
“It’s not something I need to know,” Draco said.
“And you’re going to work in that?” Potter said, nodding to the joggers and loose t-shirt Draco had been stuck in the past few days.
“Probably not,” Draco said.
“So, how’re you going to get new clothes without any money?” Potter asked.
Draco found himself starting to grin at this stupid little game Potter was playing. “I could always borrow something from Samuel,” he said, “But I’ll probably go to a thrift store down the way and copy something decent.”
“You’ll steal something,” Potter said.
Draco rolled his eyes, “No. Potter. The original clothes will remain in the shop and can still be sold. My copies are, as you call them, not real clothes. They’ll only last a week or two before the magic dissipates.”
“If you’re going to just copy some clothes, why not copy something expensive?” Potter asked.
“Because the Geminio charm copies everything,” Draco said, “Including those little clipped on plastic things that set off the alarms when you try to leave with them. And every time I’ve tried to just vanish the alarm, it vanished the whole fucking outfit. Cutting them out works, but it’s a lot of work for clothes with holes in them that will disappear in a week.”
Draco lifted his bottle of coke and whiskey to his lips and took a rather large swallow.
Potter squinted at the bottle.
“What?” Draco asked.
“I was half expecting it to be a beer,” Potter said.
“Ugh,” Draco wrinkled his nose, “I do not understand why people drink beer. The last thing I want to do is taste my alcohol.”
Potter narrowed his eyes at the bottle in his hand.
“Whiskey and coke,” Draco said, “You think I would talk to you sober? Not likely.”
“The last time I was here, was that-”
“Vodka cranberry,” Draco said.
Potter frowned, “Do you always drink so much?”
Draco shrugged the question off, “I suppose since it’s saturday, you already had the day off. Can’t fathom why you’d want to spend it here,” he gestured to the sad-looking little neighbourhood.
“Aurors work all days of the week. I only specially ask for sundays off,” Potter said. “Why do you drink so much?”
“Because,” Draco said flippantly. “So you had to take more time off to keep stalking me then?”
“I have a lot of personal days saved up,” Potter said, “Because why?”
Draco frowned at him, “Just because.”
“I answered all your quest-”
“I don’t owe you any fucking answers, Potter,” Draco snapped. “Merlin, why can’t you just mind your own business!” He turned and stormed back into the apartment complex.
He went back up the stairs. Thankfully, he didn’t have to go back to Elle’s flat and her angry brother because Potter didn’t follow him. Draco sat down on the top step. When he tilted his coke up and got nothing more than a few drops from the bottom, he threw the empty bottle down the stairs. It clattered loudly against concrete and metal before coming to a slow rolling stop. Draco leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
Draco blinked slowly, his eyes tracking the clouds moving past the little square of blue high over the courtyard. The concrete bench he was lying on dug into his hips and shoulders, but at some point, he had stopped caring. He was humming under his breath, a soft nonsense melody just to break up the silence around him.
A shadow fell over Draco, and he squinted through the change in brightness. The shadow plucked the bottle dangling from Draco’s fingers and held it up to the light, yellow-white sunlight streaming through the liquid.
“Lemonade?” Potter asked. He sniffed the mouth of the bottle and frowned before taking a tiny sip and making a face. “Jesus, Malfoy, how much vodka did you put in this?”
“Too much,” Draco muttered, “Tastes like shite.”
“You still drank most of it,” Potter said.
“And I’ll finish it,” Draco said, reaching up to take the bottle.
Potter kept it easily out of reach.
“You don’t know where that’s been,” Draco said.
“Your mouth? What, did you spit in it?” Potter asked.
“You wish,” Draco said.
Potter snorted, “I’m not one of your hookups, Malfoy.”
“You just have terrible taste,” Draco said sourly, “Never could see quality when it was right in front of you.”
“Probably because you always open your mouth and ruin it,” Potter said.
“Rude,” Draco said, but couldn’t help smiling, “but probably true.”
“Definitely true,” Potter said. He pushed one of Draco’s legs off the back of the bench and sat on the edge.
“I thought you’d finally given up,” Draco muttered.
“You said you were going to work for three days,” Potter said.
Draco grimaced.
“Went well, did it?” Potter said sarcastically.
“I did the job. No one had any complaints,” Draco said irritably.
Potter didn’t say anything.
“I washed all the plates and pots and washed more and washed more, and smelled like their weird soap,” Draco held up his hands, “my hands got all pruney.”
Potter frowned in disbelief.
“I lied. I wore gloves the whole time,” Draco said.
“You’re supposed to wear them, for hygiene,” Draco said.
“Why did you lie?” Potter asked.
“Pruney hands was funnier,” Draco said, “Not that you ever laugh at my jokes.”
Potter looked at him with a sigh, and Draco lifted his foot and tried to kick Potter in the side but missed, nearly slipping off the bench.
“You’re drunk,” Potter said.
Draco pulled his legs back up, tucking his feet up by his knees, “Fuck off.”
Potter sighed again, “… I don’t think I can.”
“Are your legs broken?” Draco asked sarcastically.
“Malfoy...” Potter said.
“I had to be good,” Draco said.
“At the working. I had to be good, so I didn’t drink much. I didn’t want to get Samuel in trouble, so I was good.” Draco said, “I worked hard. I was good.”
“That’s- that’s good?” Potter said, his brow furrowing.
“Why can’t you?” Draco asked.
“What?” Potter asked, “Can you try to make sense? I can’t follow half the shite you’re saying.”
“I want you to fuck off; you said no,” Draco said.
“Because… I want to make this right,” Potter said.
“fuuuuck,” Draco groaned.
“You were-” Potter grimaced, “-you were right. I’ve- I’ve fucked this all up, and I owe it to you to try and fix it.”
Draco closed his eyes with satisfaction, “Say it again.”
“That I fucked everything-”
“That I was right,” Draco said.
There was a long, long pause that promoted Draco to open his eyes again and watch Potter grimace and furrow his brow like someone had shoved a lemon in his mouth.
“…You were right,” Potter said reluctantly.
Draco grinned hugely.
“Fucking hell, Malfoy,” Potter muttered. “Just tell me what you want.”
Draco tilted his head back to look back at the sky.
“Anything. Whatever you want,” Potter said.
Draco smiled wanly, “‘Whatever I want’ that’s a dangerous thing to offer.”
“Within reason,” Potter added.
Draco scoffed.
“So what?” Draco said.
“What do you want?” Potter asked.
A pigeon flew in and landed on the edge of the building, its wings opening and flapping absently to keep its balance.
“Malfoy,” Potter said.
“I don’t know,” Draco said.
“I don’t,” Draco said.
Potter sighed.
Draco pushed himself up, dropping his legs on either side of the bench, his knee pressing into the side of Potter’s leg, “Give me my drink back.”
Potter looked at the bottle in his hand and frowned. He tightened his grip, the plastic crinkling in his hand, and for a moment looked like he might throw it across the courtyard, but reluctantly passed it over to Draco.
The last swallow of the cocktail was sour and biting with vodka, gone warm from sitting in Potter’s hand.
“Malfoy, what can I do to make this right?” Potter asked.
Draco flipped the empty bottle upside-down and whacked Potter on the side of his head, “I don’t want it.”
“What?” Potter said with a frown.
“Your stupid- anything,” Draco said, smacking Potter again with a hollow plastic tong.
“I know you don’t want my money,” Potter said.
“I don’t want anything from you, because it’s you. I’d rather die than take your fucking charity,” Draco said.
Potter grabbed Draco’s wrist before he could hit him again and pulled the bottle easily out of his hand. “It’s not charity, Malfoy. I fucked up your life. I owe you. I want to fix things.”
Draco sneered at him.
Potter threw the bottle out of reach.
“Let me go,” Draco said, trying to pull his hand away.
Potter let him go.
Draco rubbed his wrist even though Potter hadn’t hurt him in the least.
“Fine. Fine. What- what about a deal then?” Potter said, his voice dripping with frustration, “There’s something like that, isn’t there?  An unbreakable vow but a deal between two people.”
Draco snorted, “Not a chance; unbreakable vows are fatal if you break them.”
“Which is why I asked if there was something, less- less fatal!” Potter said.
“A Birkin’s Bargain?” Draco said.
“Which is what? How does it work?” Potter asked.
“It’s a magically binding vow for both people,” Draco said.
“And if someone breaks the… bargain? What happens?” Potter asked.
Draco shrugged one shoulder, “It’s broken. The deal is off. No one really uses Birkin’s Bargain because there’s nothing to really bind the vow without the threat of death.”
Potter rolled his eyes, “Of course not. Nothing in the wizarding world lasts without some sort of threat of death or injury involved.”
Draco laughed faintly.
“So let’s make a bargain then,” Potter said.
“It’s not a bargain if you don’t want something,” Draco said.
“Who said I don’t?” Potter said.
Draco frowned and leaned back, “...What do you want?”
“...Stop drinking,” Potter said.
Draco grimaced, “We talked about this, Potter, you can’t damsel in distress me-”
“Why not?” Potter said.
“Why can’t I save you? You think I can’t? I bet I could,” Potter said, his expression settling into fierce determination, the likes I which Draco hadn’t seen since they were both in school.
Draco shivered and then frowned at himself.
“And you can have whatever you want,” Potter said.
Potter nodded.
“So I could live in your flat?”
Potter’s mouth tightened, but he nodded.
“And you would take care of all my needs?” Draco asked.
Potter managed a very tight nod.
Draco leaned forward until their faces were only inches apart, reaching up and brush Potter’s cheek with the back of his hand, the faint shadow of stubble scraping across his skin, “All my needs?”
Potter jerked back, “No sleeping around either.” He narrowed his eyes and took Draco’s hand, pulling it down to the bench, “If you’re trying to scare me off, it won’t work.”
“Does it ever?” Draco said.
The corner of Potter’s mouth turned up in a faint smirk, “No.” He held out his hand, “It’s a bargain then?”
“That’s not how the spell works,” Draco said.
“Malfoy,” Potter said impatiently.
“You’ll break the bargain first,” Draco said.
Potter snorted, “Doubt it.”
Draco eyed Potter’s hand warily, “Fine,” and shook it.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 😉👍 but hey, at least we’re finally at the beginning of where the original story started lol
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything thank you soooo much!!!! 💜
💜 @slyther-ink I think his upbringing and school trauma probably primed him to always put himself first for his own safety but he needs to work on that shit now  :<  💜 thank yous!!!!💜
💜 @cats-extra-tails :D thank you!!!
💜 @shadowybook  it’s like the tables have turned lol 💜thank you!!!!! 💜
💜 @lilyinthebreeze Harry is a twit :D  💜thank you so much!
💜 @devilrising it still always surprises me how loud and shrill kids can be lol thank you so so so much!
💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you!
💜 @dewitty1 thank you soooooo much! loved that ‘harry needs to step down off his high horse and clean off his glasses’ lol that’s a good line!  💜 💜 💜
💜 @chosenpotter :)) thank you so much!!!
💜 @iamactuallya-cat thank you!! 💜
💜 @idareyoutotakealook 👍👍👍👍👍heck yea! thank you!
💜 @addicted-to-w0rds thank you! and happy frickin birthday! I hope you had a good one 😘 💜
💜 @languedor71 ‘Harry handed Draco a knife to stab him’ Gooooood I loved that!! That’s so good 💜 💜 💜thankyou!!!!
💜 @champagnemonarch thank you!
💜 @dracodragon19872 it’s been a while since Harry’s had some push back, it’ll be good for him 😁 💜thank you!!!
💜 @justafangirlslikes draco being nice to everyone but harry hmmm🤔🤔🤔 wonder if that will cause problem later 💜 💜thankyou so much!!!
💜 @mortalsfool thank you!!!!! 💜 💜 💜 💜
💜 @onomtonks  💜 @cloack  💜 @whenrainbowsend 
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dorthyanndrarry · 2 months ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -1-
--> Part 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 -
Unlike most of things I write, this story will deal with a lot of heavy real world problems such as drug use, alcohol use, casual sex, suicidal idealisation and an absolute metric-fuckton of mental illness. There will also be the less ‘sensational’ real world problems, like poverty, capitalism, the failures of government and conservatism.  (And also explicit sexual content but I generally get more complaints about there not being sex or not enough sex or not explicit enough sex, than there being any.)
Anyway, my hope is that despite dealing with very emotionally heavy topics, I can write about them in a light sort of way. I want to write about community and friendship and how humans, when it comes down to it, are social creatures who survive because they take care of one another and watch out for one another, even when there’s nothing in it for them. Humans who care. I want this to be a story about humans who care.
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s
suggested rating: Mature
A clock gently ticked in the quiet room. The hands read three twenty-five. Draco groaned softly, a faint puff of dust swirling above his head as he moved. He pressed his hand to his chest, every beat of his heart echoing in his head with a thrum of dull pain. He slowly pushed himself up, gripping the musty sheets until his head stopped spinning. The curtain covering the only window was too thin to block out the sunlight and filled the room with a sickly yellow hue.
The bed creaked as he stood up, almost stumbling over his own feet as he crossed the linoleum to the kitchen a few feet away. Draco stopped abruptly as he stepped in something sticky and pulled his foot back with a grimace. He stared at the refrigerator and then reluctantly returned to his bed, flipping his pillow out of the way and grabbing his wand.
“Scourgify,” his voice came out rough.
Draco aimed the spell at the floor and his feet and then threw another one over himself, frowning at the rough prickle of magic over his skin.
His button-up shirt was wrinkled and smelled like cigarette smoke. His hair was getting long, reaching the top of his shoulders, but it was tied back into a messy knot at the nape of his neck where he didn’t have to see it. He started to look too much like his father when it got long. He’d have to hack it off soon, seeing ghosts in the mirror messed with his head.
He shoved his wand into the back pocket on his slacks and went to the fridge, tugging on the handle and then pulling harder until the seal on the door finally popped free.
The fridge’s meagre contents rattled. Draco squeezed his eyes shut at the brilliant light inside, fumbling around blindly until his fingers found the little switch that turned off the light and held it down. He opened his eyes and grabbed the first bottle he saw, some shit brand of orange juice, before quickly closing the door.
Draco twisted off the top of the bottle, gulped down a third of the orange juice, and grabbed a bottle of vodka from the freezer, refilling the bottle of orange juice to the top. He screwed the cap back on, mixing it together with a few lazy twists of his wrist. Before he left, stepped into the bathroom. The medicine cabinet was open, the mirror turned against the wall. He splashed some water on his face and grabbed a couple painkillers from the medicine cabinet, washing them down with his shitty cocktail.
The small apartment block was a square with the centre open, a couple floors ringed with railings outside narrow doors leading to narrow apartments. Below was a small stone courtyard with a few concrete benches and concrete planters filled with limp, dead grass and the hints of flowers that might have once been there.
“Ey, Draco!” A young black man raised his hand in greeting courtyard, the faint sickly sweet smell of weed floating up from the cigarette in his hand.
“Samuel,” Draco waved back and headed down the stairs crossing the concrete and dropping onto the bench beside the young man with his tight cropped black hair.
“How’re you doing, man?” Samuel asked.
“Spent the night in my own bed,” Draco said.
Samuel made a tch noise, “That’s good. You gotta stop hoeing around.”
“What are you, my mother?” Draco asked.
“Nah, just a friend,” Samuel said. He lifted the cigarette to his lips and took a pull, letting the smoke slowly drift back out of his mouth before he spoke again, “You’re gonna get hurt. All it takes is one bad guy.”
“I’m careful,” Draco said, “I have my wand after all.”
Samuel laughed and then coughed lightly, “What you need is some brass knuckles. Or a knife. Not that little stick of yours.”
“It’s not a stick; it’s a wand. Hawthorn with a core of unicorn hair,” Draco said.
Samuel snorted, “Yeah, yeah. And you can’t show me any magic cause it’s against the rules. I know.”
Draco ignored the comment and nodded to Samuel’s spliff, “Be careful Tom doesn’t catch you with that; he’ll throw you out in a heartbeat.”
“Tom ain’t never around this time of day,” Samuel said. “And I need it, for my nerves, you know?”
Draco nodded.
“Side’s we’re not all that different,” Samuel nodded to the bottle in Draco’s hand.
Remembering his drink, Draco brought it to his lips and drank enough to feel the burn of the alcohol mixing with the citric acid.
“Tom’ll throw any of us out in a heartbeat. He hates all of us,” Samuel said.
“Except, Mary,” Draco said.
“Hmm,” Samuel said.
“It’s impossible to hate Mary,” Draco said.
"That would be assuming Tom ever liked anyone. He probably doesn't even like puppies," Samuel said.
Draco laughed and asked, “How is the kitchen job working out?”
Samuel nodded and quirked a slow smile, “Good. Like, I know most people hate that sort of thing, but I like it.”
“I thought you had trouble being around a lot of people,” Draco said.
Samuel waved his hand, a faint wisp of smoke slipping through his fingers with the movement. "Nah. It's just me and the dishwasher. The kitchen's bustlin’, and they're shouting and movin', but it's pretty quiet in the back. I load up the machine, and you can hear the water rushin' around; it's like my own little ocean."
“And your boss is cool?” Draco asked.
“As long as I do my job, he doesn’t mind,” Samuel said.
“I hope this one works out for you,” Draco said.
“Me too, man,” Samuel said, “I could use a break.”
Samuel took a long slow pull, closing his eyes and holding his breath, taking a single moment of peace in a crazy world. “Alright,” he said slowly, opening his eyes, “I better get goin’. Don’t want to be late.”
Draco nodded.
Samuel stood up and passed the nub of the spliff out to Draco, “You want the last?”
Draco took the smouldering end, "Thanks."
Samuel nodded, “See you around, man.”
Draco put the cigarette to his mouth, breathing in smoke until he could feel the burning heat on his fingertips. He flicked the end onto the ground and smeared the ash across the concrete, coughing faintly as his breath ran out. The smoke dissipated into the air as he leaned back on the bench and stared up at the small square of blue sky above him, watching the clouds as they drifted by.
“-aco! Draco!” There was a laugh, “I know you’re down there; I heard you talking to Sam!”
Draco blinked, and blinked again, trying to focus.
“Come up here, space case!” A woman called from the floor above him.
“Comin’,” Draco said hoarsely.
“Hurry up!”
Draco cleared his throat as he slowly stood up, “Keep your pants on, Elle.”
His head was swimming very gently as he moved, like a soft fog had filled his mind and slowed all his thoughts down to a trickle. He took his time coming up the stairs, dragging his free hand along the cool metal railing as he walked, feeling the faint edges of the chipping paint.
“Don’t pretend you have something better to do,” Elle said as he came around the corner. Her curly brown hair was loose and wild around her face. Dark circles ringed her eyes as she looked up from the old armchair she was sitting in beside her front door.
“Neither do you,” Draco said, “Why do I have to rush?”
“Because it’s not about me,” Elle said, “We have a new neighbour.”
Draco looked around and saw no one.
“She’s inside,” Elle nodded to an apartment down the walkway, “ Her name is Naja. She’s setting things up for her and her kids. Two, a boy and a girl.”
“Kids, here?” Draco said, leaning back against the railing.
“It’s going to get loud,” Elle laughed softly. “I told her you wouldn’t mind showing her Bohdan’s shop.”
Draco nodded, “Sure. I’ll see if Mary needs anything.”
“Thanks,” Elle said with a tired smile.
“You doing alright?” Draco asked. “You seem more tired than usual.”
“Hmm,” Elle said, closing her eyes and dropping her head back against the wall, “My body hates me. Just the usual bullshit.”
“Need anything?” Draco asked, sipping from his bottle.
Elle shook her head, “My brother is going to come by this weekend and help me out.”
“If you change your mind-”
“I know, you’re here,” Elle said and smiled, “you wastrel.”
Draco chuckled.
A door clicked open three doors down, and a short brown skin woman stepped outside, relocking the door behind her. She was wearing a blue blouse decorated with white flowers and a pretty purple hijab.
“Naja,” Elle called, “This is Draco. The bloke I told you about.”
“Hello,” Draco said, “Welcome to the neighbourhood.”
“Hi,” Naja hurried over to them, “Sorry, were you waiting for me?”
“We were just having a chat,” Elle said. “You got everything moved in?”
“Most of it,” Naja said, “My parents will help me move the bigger things tomorrow. They’re watching Aleena and Darain for me right now.”
“Draco might be able to help, if he’s around. He runs errands for me sometimes, buys Mary’s groceries, that sort of thing,” Elle said.
“Not before noon,” Draco said.
Elle snorted, “Even before noon. He just whines more.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Elle said you wanted me to show you Bohdan’s.”
Naja blinked, looking lost for a second.
“The local shop I told you about,” Elle said.
“Oh. Right,” Naja said, “I don’t want to bother you. I can always go to the Tesco’s by the station.”
Elle waved her off, “It’s no bother. Draco is a layabout.”
“Rude,” Draco said.
“But true,” Elle teased.
“The nice thing about Bohdan’s is it’s only a few blocks away,” Draco said.
“Oh, that would be convenient,” Naja said.
“Sorry,” Elle interrupted, squeezing her eyes shut, “I can feel a migraine coming on.”
“Oh. Right! Okay. No problem,” Naja said.
Draco held his hand out and helped Elle to her feet. Letting her catch her balance against his shoulder before letting go.
“Sorry to leave so soon. It’s was great meeting you Naja. You can knock on my door any time. Any time, understand?” Elle insisted.
Naja nodded, “Yes. Thank you again!”
“Good. See you later, alright?” Elle said and went back into her apartment, leaving Draco and Naja alone on the walkway.
“Ready to go?” Draco asked.
“Ye-yeah, sure,” Naja said.
“I’m going to ask Mary if she needs anything first,” Draco said, waving for Naja to follow him as he headed back down the stairs and across the courtyard. Naja struggled to keep up with his long legs, and Draco belatedly adjusted his stride.
He knocked on apartment four, “Mary! It’s Draco!”
There was a long pause, and eventually, shuffling footsteps coming to the door. The chain on the door rattled and fumbled, the lock slowly sliding open, and finally, the door opened.
Mary was old and hunched; her wispy hair was dyed a reddish-brown with about an inch of grey-white roots showing. Her glasses took up half her wrinkled face, and the front of her pink sweatshirt had a picture of songbirds and flowers on it.
“Draco, dear!” Mary said with a delighted smile. “Look at you; you’re as handsome as always.”
“Am I not the picture of beauty?” Draco said with a grin.
“You are! And such a good boy!” Mary looked around him at Naja, “Who is this?”
“Mary meet Naja. She’s moving in here,” Draco said.
Mary squinted at Naja through her glasses, “Oh, hello dear. You have one of those- those- what are they called?” she pointed around her head.
“A hijab?” Naja said, doing her best to hide her anxiety.
“It must be nice not having to worry about how your hair looks,” Mary said, “When I was your age, I went to the salon every week to get my hair done. Still, that was easier than pinning it up every night.”
Naja laughed with relief, “I’m afraid I still worry about my hair. But at least when I have a bad hair day, no one has to see it.”
“I do so love meeting new people; you’ll have to come have tea with me once you’re moved in,” Mary said.
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Naja said with a cautious smile, “I’d like that.”
“Call me Mary, dear,” Mary said.
“We’re going to the shops, Mary,” Draco said, “Do you need anything?”
Mary bobbed her head, “Oh, yes, yes. I wrote a list. Let me find it.” She shuffled back inside, and after a lot of crinkly paper rustling noises, returned with a list written on the back of a receipt and a folded twenty-pound note. “Here-”
Mary clasped her hand over his, papery-thin skin and knobbly joints squeezing tight, “I want you to buy something for yourself as well. A muffin or a danish, something nice.”
“Very well,” Draco said.
Marry patted his hand and let go, “Don’t forget, you promised to have tea with me.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Draco said.
“And be careful-”
“I will,” Draco said.
“And if they’re out of something on my list, you don’t have to worry about it,” Mary said.
“I know, Mary,” Draco said, “We’ll be back soon.”
Mary held her arms open, and Draco bent down to let her hug him, returning the embrace with one arm around her shoulders.
Mary waved at them until they left the courtyard and stepped out onto the street.
“Still waiting on that rent, Malfoy!” A grumpy man with a stained t-shirt yelled out the door or the first apartment as they walked past.
“I’ll get it to you, Tom,” Draco said flatly.
“Hurry up or you’re out on your ass!” Tom snapped and slammed the door shut. The small maroon plaque on his door read ‘Manager.’
Draco rolled his eyes.
“Mary seems nice,” Naja said.
“She’s wonderful,” Draco said, “Her family lives in america and can’t afford to come see her very often. She gets lonely.”
Draco walked slowly, matching Naja’s pace.
“Umm,” Naja said carefully, “Elle told me a bit about you.”
“Sounds about right. If there’s something you want everyone in the complex to know, tell Elle. She likes to gossip,” Draco said.
“You don’t mind?” Naja asked.
“It’s expedient,” Draco said.
Naja blinked and looked down at her hands, “I hope this isn’t rude, but Elle said you were gay-”
Draco raised an eyebrow.
“-and I wondered if maybe that was why you were here?”
“Here?” Draco asked.
“At these apartments. You seem very… posh.”
“Posh,” Draco repeated with a smile.
“I just wouldn’t have imagined someone that looks and sounds like you living in such- such a cheap place,” Naja said.
Draco huffed a laugh, “So you thought my parents disowned me?”
“Or, well, maybe...” Naja said nervously.
“I never got the chance to tell my father I was gay before he died,” Draco said.
“I’m sorry,” Naja said quickly, ducking her head in embarrassment.
“It’s fine,” Draco said, “It’s been years now. And I could say the same for you. This isn’t exactly the first place someone brings a couple of kids.”
Naja laughed faintly, “...That’s true.”
“So. You tell me your tale of woe, and I shall tell you mine,” Draco said.
“It’s not very exciting,” Naja said, “I was born here, but my husband wasn’t and ….he got deported. We thought his visa was fine until they came and took him away. I’ve been working on getting things fixed so he can come home, but we can’t afford a lawyer or someone to help us with all the paperwork, and with two kids-”
“It makes things difficult,” Draco said.
“Yes,” Naja said emphatically, “And Darain has been acting out. I know he’s upset about Fahmi being gone, but I-” She shook her head, “...They will be starting school again soon, and then I will have more time. We moved here so they could keep going to their old school. I didn’t want them to lose their friends as well, and this was all I could afford. My parents are helping as much as they can, and Fahmi is doing whatever work he can find to send money to us but, it’s- it’s taking a lot of time.”
“If you need any help, ask. I’ll do what I can,” Draco said.
Naja smiled up at him, “You have all been so nice to me.”
“I am a delight,” Draco said. He stopped in front of Bohdan’s. The shop windows were cluttered with glowing neon signs and sun-faded advertisements for beer and cigarettes. A large cowbell clunked as Draco pulled open the door.
“Welcome! Can I help you?” Bohdan called in a thick Ukrainian accent. “Oh, Draco, it is you.”
“This is Naja,” Draco said as she stepped inside, “she’s new to the neighbourhood.”
Bohdan’s demeanour changed instantly, becoming bright and cheerful, “Hello! Hello! Welcome! I hope you like it here. I carry everything you need and if not, tell me, and I will get it just for you!”
The store was small and made smaller by the narrow aisles and tight-packed shelves. The products tended to be strange brands, boxes with tears and water damage, dented cans and products that would be outdated in a few days. But the prices couldn’t be beat.
Draco collected Mary’s things as Naja asked Bohdan about a growing list of things she used for cooking. Bohdan was writing down a list of ingredients next to the cash register when Draco came up, dropping an armful of things onto the counter.
“What is all this for anyway?” Bohdan asked, scratching his stubbly cheek with the stub of a scuffed eraser.
“Biryani,” Naja said, then in the face of his confusion, waved her hand, “Curries, tikka, that sort of thing.”
“I see, I see,” Bohdan said, straightening up, “I will find them and make a shelf just for you.”
Naja smiled, “Thank you but it’s fine if you can’t-”
“No, no, no,” Bohdan said quickly, shaking a finger at her, “Just you wait and see. I will find everything. You will never need to shop anywhere but Bohdan’s. You will see.” He began ringing up Mary’s groceries and putting them into a bag.
Draco dropped Mary’s twenty-pound note onto the counter, “And a bottle whisky, whatever’s cheapest, and a pack of cigarettes on a separate bill.”
He opened his rather thin wallet and grimaced, he really needed to go to the bank.
There was a basket of cling wrapped muffins in front of the till and Naja pointed to them, “Mary said to get something for yourself.”
“It’s fine,” Draco said.
Bohdan stopped and gave Draco a disapproving look. Naja’s was more disappointed.
Draco grabbed one of the muffins and tossed it onto the counter, “Fine. And this.”
The bell over the door clunked as they left. Draco held the plastic bags in one hand, eating the muffin with the other. It was banana nut, the inside a bright unreal yellow colour and dry, but the flavour wasn’t bad. He chewed slowly, his stomach giving an uneasy lurch at the first solid food of the day.
“It’s your turn,” Naja said, “I told you my story.”
“Ah, right,” Draco said with a sigh, “There is so very much wrong with me, but I suppose it boils down to: I was raised in a cult.”
“I- what?” Naja nearly tripped on the pavement and stumbled. “Did you say a cult? Truly?”
“Truly,” Draco said.
“You’re not joking?” Naja asked.
“I am not,” Draco said idly, “My father joined when he was just out of school. I don’t know if he actually bought into all the shite but or just wanted power but,” he shrugged, “I supposed it didn’t matter whether he believed it or not.”
“Did your mother- was she also-?”
“She never officially joined, but she supported everything my father did,” Draco said.
“Was it one of those weird religious cults?” Naja asked, and hesitated, “Oh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to! I didn’t mean to pry; it’s just- just… well, a cult. That’s the sort of thing you only see on the news.”
Draco smiled faintly, tossing the muffin liner in a bin as they passed. “...It wasn’t a weird religious cult. Unfortunately, it was one of the blood-purity, only certain people are the right sort of people, and we make up the rules, kind of cult.”
“...Oh,” Naja said.
“I don’t believe any of it anymore, but I did for an embarrassingly long time.” Draco awkwardly pushed up his sleeve and turned over his arm to show Naja what was left of the dark mark. After Voldemort died, it turned into something like a scar, pale white and shiny tight compared to the rest of his skin.
“They branded you?” Naja said softly. She reached her hand up and brushed her fingertips over his arm before realising she was doing it and quickly pulled back, “Sorry!”
“It’s fine,” Draco said. “The funny thing is, at the time, I wanted it. I was proud to be just like my father. I thought… I thought maybe he’d start to respect me, that other people would-” he shook his head.
“How old were you?” Naja asked.
“Sixteen,” Draco said.
Naja’s eyes widened, “You were just a child.”
“No sixteen-year-old thinks they’re a kid,” Draco said, pushing his sleeve down.
“Maybe not, but your parents should have,” Naja said sternly.
Draco pushed a tired smile onto his face.
“If you don’t mind,” Naja asked, “How did you get out?”
“The leader of the cult was killed, my father was thrown into jail, and my mother had a mental breakdown, and I, well, I had almost died a couple times and decided it just wasn’t for me,” Draco said.
Naja laughed awkwardly and slapped her hand over her mouth, “Sorry! It wasn’t funny. I mean-”
“I was trying to be a bit funny,” Draco said, “it’s easier that way. Anyway, after all that, there wasn’t much money left, and I used most of it to make sure my mother was taken care of. So I ended up here.”
Naja stopped in front of the apartment building, wavering uncertainly, “Sorry, I need to go pick up my kids before it gets any later. But thank you for showing me the shop and, well, everything. I was a bit nervous about moving here, but it doesn’t seem too bad anymore.”
Draco nodded, “It was nice to meet you, Naja. I’m sure we’ll see each other quite a bit from now on.”
Naja nodded and waved, turning and running over to a beat-up little car parked next to the building.
Draco stayed there, feet stuck to the ground after she left. He felt heavy and tired, and the sky looked grey like it might rain. He pulled out the pack of cigarettes, slowly pulled off the plastic, and pushed it open, lighting one with a cheap plastic lighter. He breathed the smoke in until it stung and held it in his lungs until his head began to swim. Draco stood there, staring at nothing, smoke swirling out of his mouth, a weight building in his chest.
He shook his head and finished the cigarette, stubbing the butt out on the ground. Draco turned on his heel and head back into the complex; he had promised to have tea with Mary.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 
new stories always make me nervous, especially one with such a different tone.
 ≧ ﹏ ≦ I hope some people will like it 💜
Tags below v 💜 hope y’all don’t mind a scattershot of tags for the first chapter 💜 please don’t feel obligated to read it if it’s not your jam 💜 💜 💜
💜 @potter-harreh  💜 @pain-changes-everything 💜 @addicted-to-w0rds  💜 @iamactuallya-cat  💜 @idareyoutotakealook  💜 @snarkyship  💜 @devilrising  💜 @champagnemonarch  💜 @dewitty1  💜 @lilyinthebreeze  💜 @witch19  💜 @goodluckandwaffles  💜 @shadowybook  💜 @languedor71  💜 @havingaverydrarryday  💜 @chosenpotter  💜 @dracodragon19872  💜 @justafangirlslikes  💜 @mortalsfool  💜 @bisexualronaldweasley  💜  
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dorthyanndrarry · 2 months ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -3-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s
suggested rating: Mature
Disclaimer: 1 clean your sex toys well! 2. don’t share your sex toys!
 Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <-- Part 2 || Part 4 ->
The sun peaking around the buildings burned into Draco’s eyes, and he held up a hand to block the glare. He walked until he found a twenty-four-hour convince store and bought a bottle of coke with a handful of coins he managed to dig out of his wallet. He didn't have enough money left to even take the train.
Draco looked at the plastic bottle in his hand with a frown. Apparition and carbonation did not mix, and Draco didn’t fancy his soda fizzing over when he landed. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing he didn’t want to deal with.
He walked until he found a little park and sat on a bench. He sipped the soda under the shade of the trees, enjoying the cool morning air.
When a third of the bottle was empty, he took out his wallet and opened the bifold. It had two sections, one he kept the paper money in and the other he had charmed into a bag of holding. It wasn't very deep, but it let him store a few things. Draco fished out a heavy silver flask and added whiskey to the bottle coke.
An early morning jogger narrowed his eyes at Draco as he passed. Draco ignored him, waiting  until he was out of sight to put the flask back into his wallet. He wasn't sure if he meant to drink the whole bottle or if he simply wasn't paying attention until he put the bottle to his lips and found it empty.
Draco sighed and stood up, swaying a little on his feet. He walked down the path until he found a public bathroom. Behind the closed door, he vanished the empty bottle and, squeezing his eyes shut in concentration, apparated.
He landed badly on the cobbles of Diagon Alley and stumbling into someone.
“Oh, take care!” an old witch said, then narrowed her eyes as she recognised him, took a step back, brushing her robes off where he had touched her. “Excuse me,” she said coldly and quickly walked away.
Draco didn’t bother apologising; no one wanted to hear it. He was grateful that he had to keep his eyes on his feet while he walked. Staying steady on his feet took almost all his concentration, but part of his mind still noticed when people moved out the way to avoid him and the comments muttered under their breath. The worst of them were the ones that didn't try to avoid him, who walked toward him looking to bump into him, to confront him, their wand already clutched in knuckle white fists. Draco did his best to get out of their way, running his shoulder into the wall if he had to.
He was rushed and breathless when he stepped into Gringott's and took a few seconds to lean against a cold stone pillar to catch his breath. No one would try anything in the bank; the goblins wouldn't allow it.
Draco stepped up to an open counter.
“What you want?” The goblin demanded.
Draco fished his vault key out of his wallet and set it on the counter, “I want to withdraw forty galleons and have it converted to muggle currency.”
The goblin wrinkled their nose at him, “Extra charge for withdrawal service.”
“I know,” Draco said flatly.
“Extra charge for currency exchange.”
“I know,” Draco said impatiently. “You bloody charge for everything; just get on with it.”
The goblin sniffed and grabbed the key off the counter, “Fine. Wait here.”
Draco nodded. Once the goblin was out of sight, he crossed his arms on the counter and rested his cheek on them.
He was eight years old the first time he saw the family vaults. He remembered being terrified from the cart and trying not to cry because his father would narrow his eyes at him whenever he did; Draco hated that look; it made him feel like he had a stone in the bottom of his stomach. It wasn’t until he was much older that he realised that look was disappointment.
The Malfoy family vault had been in one of the deepest and oldest vaults. Gold galleons had been stacked to the ceiling in towering piles. Draco remembered the feeling of his father gripping the back of his neck with firm cold fingers and talking about legacy and tradition and the future. Draco couldn't remember the exact words, but he had been filled with a feeling that no one could ever touch their family. Draco never questioned his place in that world. It was where he was born and where he belonged.
“Here,” the goblin said, slapping a stack of notes and a few coins onto the counter, “Now, off.” he shooed at Draco to move.
Draco pushed himself up and put the money into his wallet, where it folded as flat as a slip of paper, “My vault key.”
The goblin sniffed imperiously at him before putting the small silver key down and sliding it across the smooth wooden surface with one finger to the other side of the counter.
Draco picked up the key and very carefully tucked it into the other side of his wallet before putting the slim leather fold into his back pocket.
“Your receipt,” The goblin said, putting a yellow rectangle of paper on the counter.
“Thanks,” Draco said flatly, crumpling the paper into a tight ball in his fist and vanishing it on his way out the door.
He headed straight for the alley entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, head down, giving everyone he could a large berth. Draco leaned against the brick wall, nearly falling through as the bricks folded back, and hurried towards the closest tube station. He pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead, feeling like he couldn’t quite catch his breath.
“Woah, take it easy, mate.”
Draco lurched back from the person he had run into.
“Watch where you’re goin’,” the bloke said before turning and head into a pub.
The pavement sign outside the door declared it ‘London’s earliest happy hour’ with pints starting at a pound seventy and a short list of other specials.
Draco turned into the pub and heading straight for the bar.
“Do you want this?”
Draco tilted his head to the side as a young woman pushed a glass of dark liquid in front of him.
She rolled her eyes, “Some bloke keeps buying me drinks, trying to get me wasted.”
“Not interested?” Draco asked.
“In getting wasted? I was. But now? Not so much,” She said.
“What are my chances of being roofied?” Draco asked, picking up the glass and taking a sip of a far too strong long-island iced tea.
“Low. I watched the bartender make it and tell me it was compliments of-” she waved her hand, “whoever.”
“You don’t even know?” Draco asked.
“And I don’t care,” she said, “I came to have a night out with my friends, not some desperate bloke.”
“And your friends are?” Draco asked.
“Outside,” she said, “They’re having a cigarette, and I have asthma.”
“So you’re chatting up your friendly local queer to keep the blokes off,” Draco said.
She grinned, “Not so local. I come here all the time, and this is the first time I’ve seen you.”
“True,” Draco said. “I’m Draco, by the way.”
“Draco?” She laughed, “Is your mum one of those horoscope people?”
“Being named after stars and constellations is an old family tradition,” Draco said.
“You poor thing,” She giggled. “I’m Laura.”
Laura held out her hand, and they briefly shook hands.
“A pleasure to meet you,” Draco drawled.
Laura laughed.
Draco smirked crookedly, taking a long drink of the long-island iced-tea, which made him cough.
“Those are really strong,” Laura said.
“I noticed,” Draco said faintly and coughed again.
Laura sighed and leaned against the bar counter, “I don’t suppose you’re bi?”
“I thought you weren’t looking for a bloke,” Draco said.
Laura shrugged, “You seem nice.”
“I ‘seem nice?’ Is that all it takes?” Draco said.
Laura snorted, “Yeah. Pretty much. You’re attractive as well, but you probably already know that.”
“Well...” Draco said absently, “I don’t mind getting pegged on occasion.”
Laura’s mouth fell open, and she laughed in surprise. “Oh, I mean-” she laughed again, her cheeks taking on a flush. “I’ve never really- I mean… god, that’s really hot. I’ve always wanted to try something like that...” Laura shook her head, “But I don’t have a strap.”
“That’s a shame,” Draco said.
Laura bit her bottom lip, looking Draco over with far more interest than before, “…But my roommate does. And she’s not home.”
Draco raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Laura giggled, “I have condoms. And I’ll clean it really well; she’ll never have to know I borrowed it.”
“When does your roommate come back?” Draco asked.
“You’re not going to murder me in my sleep, are you?” Laura asked.
“No,” Draco shook his head, “I’d just rather leave before she gets back.”
"Yeah, she's gone for the weekend," Laura said, "You should meet my friends. You should drink with us." She bit her lip again, "And then we'll go have some fun."
“Sure,” Draco said. He stood up and finished off the drink with one large swallow, grimacing at the burn.
Draco nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand wrap around his arm, the glass falling to the ground and shattering, “Fuck.”
He looked up at the asshole who had grabbed him, expecting the bloke that had been hitting on Laura, but seeing black hair and broad shoulders, piercing green eyes behind glasses-
Draco forgot how to breathe, the hair on the back of his neck standing straight on end.
Draco wrenched his arm free from Potter's grip and shoved through the crowd with frantic desperation to reach the door. He slammed outside, past the group smoking near the entrance, stumbling over his feet as the alcohol in his blood warred with his panic.
He tried to pull his wand out of his pocket, one hand holding him up against the wall outside as he walked toward the pub’s narrow alleyway. His wand finally pulled free from the tight jeans and Draco spun around at the sound of footsteps rushing up to him. Potter grabbed his wrist, his grip as tight as a steel band. It was all Draco could do not to lose his grip on his wand.
“What are you thinking? This is a muggle neighbourhood!” Potter demanded.
Draco tried to pull away, his back scraping against stone, "Let me go." When Potter didn't relent, he grabbed at Potter's fingers and tried to pry them loose.
“No one has seen you around since the trials; what are you doing here?” Potter demanded.
“Drinking. It’s a pub, you ignoramus,” Draco spat, “Let me go, or I’ll start yelling.”
“You can’t hurt me with other people watching,” Draco said, glancing at the group of smokers who were watching them with growing apprehension.
Potter frowned, looking genuinely confused, “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re the one who drew his wand.”
Draco had to laugh. Did he really think Draco was going to attack him?
“I haven’t done anything. Let me go,” Draco said.
“Not until you’ve answered some questions,” Potter said.
Draco’s legs were shaking, and he indulged in their desire to give out, sliding down the wall to sit on the ground.
Potter didn’t let go, just held Draco’s hand up in the air as he stared down at him, “Are you ill?”
“Too much to drink,” Draco said faintly. He dropped his head back against the bricks, but it didn’t slow the world spinning.
He looked Potter over. Potter was still Potter, his black hair wild, his eyes a little too intense. But some things had changed. He had finally grown into his body, for one. He was no longer all knees and elbows, gangling everywhere he went. He had muscles and shoulders that strained against the faded t-shirt he was wearing. He had grown a few inches as well, though Draco was still slightly taller than him.
Potter’s mouth was moving.
“What?” Draco said.
Potter’s brow furrowed. His annoyed face was still the same. “What happened to that muggle you were with last night?”
Draco blinked, “You were there.”
“What happened-”
“Why were you in Soho?” Draco asked.
Potter’s mouth tightened slightly, “I saw you at the station and followed you to the bar.”
Draco snorted.
“What happened to that muggle you left with last night?” Potter asked.
Draco had to laugh, “Are you serious?”
“Answer the question, Malfoy,” Potter said sternly.
“We fucked, Potter,” Draco said, “I went back to his place, and we fucked.”
Potter blinked, his breathing hitching slightly in his chest. He tightened his grip painfully on Draco’s wrist, “And after that?”
Draco shook his head, "After? I fell asleep.  I woke up, took a shower, had some tea and toast and left. Do you want to know how I take my tea next? What kind of jam I put on my toast?"
“You aren’t gay. In school, you dated Pansy Parkinson,” Potter said.
“One, I consider myself pansexual with a preference for getting fucked,” Draco said mildly, “Two, Pansy always hoped our parents might arrange a marriage between us, but we never actually dated.”
Potter narrowed his eyes.
“I don’t fucking care if you don’t believe me, Potter. It’s my life, not yours. Now let me go you, fucking cunt,” Draco said, straining to pull his arm away from Potter.
“Hey… should I call someone?” Laura had followed them and was leaning against the door like a shield as she looked from Potter down to Draco.
“You’re that girl he was talking to at the bar,” Harry said.
“I haven't been a girl since I was thirteen, thanks very much,” Laura said, wary and ready to slam the door shut if Potter made any sudden moves.
Potter sighed, “Everything is fine. This is between us.”
Laura made a face at Potter and spoke to Draco, "We can call the cops. We don't have to tell them you're gay or anything; I know they can be dicks about that sort of thing."
“We’re just talking,” Potter said.
“Doesn’t look that way to me,” Laura said.
Potter reluctantly let go of Draco’s wrist.
“We heard everything,” one of the girls by the door said. “Saw everything too.” Her friends around her nodded.
Potter took a step back, looking entirely out of his element.
Draco had to wonder how long it had been since Potter been somewhere where they hadn’t automatically assumed he was in the right, the hero, the golden boy.
Laura and her friends helped Draco to his feet and quickly pulled him back into the pub, throwing dirty looks back at Potter.
“Let’s get something to drink-”
“Oh my god, that guy was such a creep-”
“First round is on me-”
Draco followed them, glancing back over his shoulder at Potter as the door swung shut.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything thank you so much!! things will get better eventually 💜 💜
💜 @shadowybook Harry is always just around the coner lol 💜thank you!!!!!! 💜
💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you! 💜
💜 @iamactuallya-cat   💜💜thank you!! 💜💜
💜 @dewitty1 thank you so much!ヾ(≧▽≦*)o 💜 the smoke has been okay so far, hope you’re doing alright
💜 @cats-extra-tails thank you!
💜 @snarkyship yesssss! he craves human intimacy like nothing else 💜 💜 💜thank yous so much!! 💜
💜 @devilrising it wouldn’t be drarry without a touch of obsession somewhere :D 💜thank youuuuuu!!!!! 💜
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dorthyanndrarry · 2 months ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -2-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s
suggested rating: Mature
<- Part 1 (contains links to all parts) || Part 3 ->
It was beginning to get dark when Draco left Mary’s apartment stuffed full of biscuits and tea. The bars were nearly empty early in the evenings but became more crowded as the night wore on. Draco picked a bar at random that seemed busy. He bought a cheap cocktail, something bright green, the sharp taste of sour apples and sugar doing its best to cover the taste of the alcohol underneath.
That was the only drink he bought for himself. Flirting and smiles and drinks turned the world into a soft blur, a warm place where he could feel the touch of hands on him and pretend he knew them.
“Hair this colour is so rare, you know?”
“You said you were a hairdresser,” Draco said to the man sitting on the barstool beside him.
“I’ve dyed hair this colour. But you don’t see it very often, naturally, I mean,” the man said.
Draco’s hair had gone loose from the knot at the back of his neck, and the man was playing with a lock of it, slipping it through his fingers.
“It’s so fine and straight. You must take good care of it,” the man said with a smile.
Draco echoed the smile without thinking, “It seems to take care of itself for the most part.”
“Are you growing it out?” The man asked.
Draco shook his head, “I need to cut it.”
“Yeah? Have you ever considered a-”
Draco stopped listening, picking up the glass beside him and carefully draining the last drops of whatever it was. It tasted sweet. Draco smiled again and made a vague noise to keep the man talking, which he did.
The man started moving his hands in broad expressive ways that matched the expression on his face and made Draco feel inexplicably fond of a man he hardly knew.
“What would you do to my hair?” Draco asked.
The man stopped, and his eyes took on an intensity that made Draco shiver. He gathered Draco’s hair in his hand, pulling it over one shoulder, “...I have some ideas...”
Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw a flash of green eyes behind glasses. He turned, eyes quickly scanning the crowd but saw nothing. At least no speccy-eyed gits.  He must have… imagined it. Draco squeezed his eyes shut for a second, the feeling his gut too nervous to be excitement, too excited to be just nerves.
“Hey? Are you listening?”
“Yes,” Draco lied and turned back, “You can do anything you want.”
“I hope you aren’t just trying to get a free haircut out of me,” the man said.
Draco leaned closer, sliding his hand over the man’s knee, pressing his thumb into the smooth muscle of his thigh, “I wouldn’t say a haircut is what I was hoping to get out of you.”
The man laughed, a cheeky smirk on his face, “Yeah?”
Draco squeezed the man’s leg.
“One more drink for the road?” he asked.
Draco smiled, “Make it strong.”
-Chapter 2-
Draco slid his hand along the edge of the mattress and the warm, soft flannel sheets. He opened one eye, letting it slowly focus on the dark blue bedsheets and breathed in the smell of someone else's laundry soap and sweat.
He moved slowly, slipping out of bed, making as little sound as possible as he padded on bare feet to collect his clothes from where they had fallen the night before. Draco pulled his wand out of the back pocket and carefully cast a series of charms to keep the room cool, quiet, and comfortable.
A bathroom was attached to the bedroom; Draco cast a silencing charm over himself and the bathroom door as he closed it behind himself. He was confronted with his own reflection in the mirror, his skin looking thin and shadows ringing under his eyes.
Draco turned his chin, “So he did cut my hair after all.”
His silvery blond hair now had an off-centre part and was just long enough to reach just above his chin, rising slightly in a line as sharp as a ruler past his ear. His nape was shaved, fading into the slightly longer hair further up. It was familiar and but looked vaguely androgynous on his face in an underfed model sort of way.
Draco flipped open the mirror and pushed it open until it only reflected the wall. He took two ibuprofen to try and slow the pounding in his head before stepping into the shower. He got the water warm before turning on the spray and slowly increased to heat until he could barely stand it. He popped the shampoo bottle open and breathed in the rich cedary scent.
Draco washed his hair slowly and combed the conditioner through the delicate strands until they were all smooth and clean. He let the water run over his head and down his face, washing off him and down into the drain until he forced himself to move.
He dried himself off with a charm and used the Geminio charm to duplicate the toothbrush sitting in a cup beside the sink. He looked through the medicine cabinet as he mindlessly brushed his teeth and found a shot glass on one shelf with a mix of stud earrings inside.
Draco let the toothbrush hang from his mouth as he dumped the earrings into his hand and pushed them around on his palm. There was a single stud that looked like a square black gemstone. He turned it under the vanity lights, seeing shafts of blue when the light caught it just right. Draco duplicated it twice, returned the other earrings to their glass in the cabinet, and pushed the blue gem earrings into his earlobes. He didn’t remember when he got them pierced. It had been months since he’d worn any earrings, so he had to force them through the half-closed holes, leaving his earlobes red and aching.
Draco finished brushing his teeth, vanished the brush, cleaned the sink, put everything back as it was and cast drying charms around the room so it looked just like when he had walked in. He eased the door open and, finding the bed’s occupant was still sound asleep, walked over to the dresser, wrapping wordless silencing charms around himself and everything he touched.
He picked out some clothes from the dresser, duplicating them and leaving the originals behind. Copies of things only lasted a few weeks before the magic dispelled, but he rarely wore anything that long. Draco put on the new outfit, tight, dark washed jeans and a white t-shirt made of a light, silky material that felt good against his skin. He tucked his wallet into his pocket and vanished his old outfit.
Draco looked across the room at the figure still sleeping soundly in the bed. He could see sandy light brown hair spread across the pillow and the sharp line of a nose, neither of which he recognised. He thought he might remember the man’s smile and the ghost of his touch.
He slipped out of the bedroom and eased the door shut behind him, soundlessly moving around the small apartment. He touched the covers of fashion and hairstyle magazines, let his hand slide over an old knitted blanket thrown over the back of a second-hand couch. An unread stack of junk mail slid off the coffee table onto the floor, addressed to Elliot Hugh.
Draco formed the name silently in his mouth, “Elliot.”
The kitchen was small but fairly tidy aside from the stack of plates in the sink. Draco quietly made himself a mug of tea and toast smeared with butter and jam, eating them slowly as he leaned back against the counter. The refrigerator was covered in photos and large, tacky magnets. A heavy black magnet at the top corner held a thin stack of business cards in place. Draco wondered if they were the cards for clients, for salons Elliot worked at or wanted to, or from friends, from other hairdressers.
He cast a cleaning charm on the empty mug and set it back on the shelf with a soft clink, brushing the crumbs from his hands. Looking around one last time, Draco headed to the door, sliding the deadbolt open and placing hand on the doorknob.
“You don’t have to leave yet. Do you want to go out sometime? Get some coffee? I’d like to see you again...”
Draco looked over his shoulder at the empty, dawn-lit room. He shook the stupid thought from his head and stepped outside, charming the deadbolt locked again behind him, so it was almost like he had never been there at all.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 thank you so much for reading!💜💜
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything hopefully it will break your heart in the best way possible 💜 💜 💜thank you for giving my new story a shot
💜 @hufflebeeluna thank you!!!!!! 💜
💜 @shadowybook thank you so so so so much!!!! i know some people don’t like a lot of oc’s in a fic so thank you for loveing them 💜 💜 💜
💜 @dracodragon19872 Thank you!!!!! I love a lot of tactile detail but it slows a story down, luckily, this story is one that wants to linger 💜 💜
💜 @goodluckandwaffles asdfghjklthank you!!!! 
💜 @duhhjax I will make it worth it! thank you!!
💜 @iamactuallya-cat  oooo thank you for all the questions!!! I will rewrite everything, my writing style has changed so much since WYWDM 1.0, it deserves a new coat of paint. I’ll  keep most of the ideas, especially the core character arcs, from  WYWDM 1.0, So far the only thing I think I’ll get rid of is the potion side plot to focus more the group counselling and apartment neighbours. and Harry will barrel into Draco’s life sooner than he’d probably like lol  💜 💜thank you!!!!
💜 @dewitty1  yup yup full rewrite, but there will be lots of new stuff in addition to the original story to hopefully keep it entertaining  💜I hope you like it 💜 💜
💜 @mortalsfool 😭Thank you so much!!!!! 💜 💜 
💜 @havingaverydrarryday   thank you for reading!!  💜
💜 @languedor71 probably for the best, version 1.0 was pretty rough 😅 💜thank you very much for giving this story a shot 💜
💜 @addicted-to-w0rds thank you!!!!!! 💜 💜 💜
💜 @devilrising thank you so much! I wanted to have a strong hook to convince people to give it a shot, hopefully I can keep it up 💜
💜 @chosenpotter thank you!!! 💜
💜 @champagnemonarch :D thank you!! 💜
💜 @snarkyship thank you so much!!!!!😭😭 thank you for rreading my new story and giving it a chnace 💜 💜 💜
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dorthyanndrarry · 4 months ago
im excited for the slow burn bc ut was quite fast in the start, and am not sure how to survive if its going to be MORE painful,, i reccomend a solid "dont read this if ur depressed" warning on wywdm LOL
very very true, I'll have to add warning at the start not to read if you might be issues with depression, substance abuse or unhealthy coping mechanisms. wywdm is much darker than the stuff I normally write
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