#drarrymicrofic

[ohdrarry]

It stands to reason that Harry’s holding groceries when he runs into Draco Malfoy for the first time in twenty years.

Well— doesn’t run into, exactly. No, more like peers through a shop window like a right barmy bastard, bits of overspilling lettuce brushing his arm and passers-by on Diagon shooting him strange looks.

Of course Malfoy has to look up from the till— because, yes, Draco Malfoy is a shopkeeper on Diagon Alley apparently— and see him goggling. So, of course, Harry has to step inside, as though he meant to make a stop at— right, yeah, Narcissus Needlework Studio— all along, holding brown paper packages of vegetables.

Malfoy’s frowning when Harry makes his way over to the till.

“I don’t want any trouble,” he says. “I’ve registered the shop, everything’s perfectly within regulation—“

“Trouble?” Harry blinks. “Oh, no. I’m not an Auror. Anymore.”

“I know that,” Malfoy says unhappily. “The whole Wizarding World all over Europe knows that. Only you’ve never left well enough alone, have you, Potter?”

Harry’s forty next month. He’s lived twenty years seeing hide nor hair of Draco Malfoy, and he’s never gone looking. Well, except for that one time when he was twenty one and went to the Manor as a trainee Auror for a— well, it was a routine check, really. And that other time when he was twenty five and thought he saw a man at a club who looked just like Malfoy from the back and was convinced for four months Malfoy was back in London and must be up to something if no one knew about it. And that time when he was thirty two— and, oh, alright, Harry hasn’t ever left well enough alone, not when it comes to Malfoy, at least.

This time, though, Harry really didn’t go looking. And it’s definitely Malfoy.

“I just wanted some— thread,” Harry says. A needlework studio should have some of that, shouldn’t it?

“Thread,” says Malfoy. He looks down, deliberately, at Harry’s lettuce.

“For Molly,” Harry says. “As a, um, birthday present. New shop on Diagon, thought I’d pop by. Seemed the place, you know. Didn’t know it was yours.”

Molly’s birthday, Malfoy doesn’t need to know, is in December. It’s June.

Malfoy continues to stare at him, until Harry’s unsure whether to get indignant about it all or turn tail and flee.

“Well,” says Malfoy before he can make a choice. “Embroidery yarn for you, then, Potter. Come along.”

-

“I’ll see you again, I assume,” Malfoy says at the end of what transpires to be a surprisingly smooth purchase.

Harry nods.

He only realises after he leaves that there’s no reason for him to come back. He’s seen it for himself— what Draco Malfoy’s up to these days. Nothing nefarious or suspicious, just yarn and needles and tapestries on Diagon.

Except, well, he’s committed now, hasn’t he? And Harry Potter’s a man of his word. He said yes, when Malfoy asked— Malfoy asked!— so he’ll be back.

And really, if he has to invent Hermione’s sudden new and passionate interest in needlework— well. That’s between Harry and his lettuce.

written for @drarrymicrofic’s prompt “sewing”. i just personally think harry james potter could be seventy five and still rapidly become obsessed with draco malfoy at any given moment.

#drarry #hpdm #drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry fic #drarry fic rec #geets microfics #i just personally find this bit of their completely canon dynamic beyond hilarious #obsessed little freaks

[glassf1re]

@drarrymicrofic

Prompt: Time Loops, 9 February 2024

TW: Language

Words: 120

47

"What is wrong with you, Potter?"

Harry blinked in the doorway.

"Why, do come in..." he said as Draco shoved his way on through.

"Forty-six times! Forty-six fucking times I've repeated this day. And nothing I do convinces you to fucking kiss me!"

Harry blinked some more. When he was done blinking he said: "Well. Did you ask?"

Draco threw his head back and cast his hands to the heavens. "Of course, why didnt I think of that!? Potter, give us a snog, will you?"

Harry squinted. "Alright."

"What?"

"Oh good, you've stopped flapping about." Harry stepped right up into his space and latched a hand onto each bicep. "Shut your eyes then, Malfoy. Don't make it weird."

#drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #drarry #hpdm

[drarrymyheart]

A 50 word Drarry microfic for your enjoyment ♥️

It took twenty-three dates.

Twenty-four if you count their shag in the ministry loo. Harry decided he definitely did.

Twenty-four dates before the stubborn bastard said it.

One word that set Harry’s nerves alight; relief in his lungs, elation in his veins.

One word breathed into their tender kiss.

“Harry.”

#drarrymicrofic #drarry #hpdm #draco x harry #drarry fanfiction #50 word fic challenge #50 word microfic #frotcot bingo #the FrotCot made me do it

[ghaniblue]

100 words for the @drarrymicrofic prompt disrobe

"You need a hobby," Ginny said. Don't argue, her tone communicated loud and clear.

So here he was: drawing class. What rubbish. Harry stared at the sketch pad in his lap. His hands were smudged black from the charcoal, and the class hadn't even started yet. There was charcoal smeared across his cheek from when he had pushed his glasses up his nose, he could feel it.

"Say hello to our live model for tonight," the teacher announced. 

Harry looked up just as Draco's robe slid to the floor, and the charcoal in Harry's hand splintered with a loud crack.

#drarrymicrofic #drarry #drarry fic #drarry microfic #drarry squad #acari writes #acari writes drarry

[scruppofficial]

Just an idea that came to me at 4 AM but I actually kinda like it. Should I continue this?

—————

Harry pulls away from the kiss and Draco wastes no time in moving his lips down to brush along the brunette’s jaw, “Dray?” He asks, “How much longer do we have to keep this up?”

“Hmm?” Draco hums in question; his lips tickle against Harry’s skin.

He mouths down Harry’s neck - nipping, sucking and kissing as Harry stutters out, “this whole ~ah~ m-mortal e-enemies charade?” He huffs out a breath as Draco sucks and bites that sweet spot where his neck and shoulder meet. The other boy’s teeth scraping his skin followed by a hot tongue, soothing the sting. Harry’s heart flutters at the thought of seeing Draco’s mark on himself later.

“Ah~ Draco…” He groans, trying to elicit a response from the blonde.

“Shh…”

“But-“

“I said,” Draco pauses to nip the shell of Harry’s ear and Harry shivers, “hush,” and then Draco’s lips are on his again. Obviously unwilling to have any kind of conversation.

He wants to know Draco’s response, he swears he does, but when the man of your dreams is kissing you like his life depends on it while also sliding his hands up your body to hook into your tie… your mind kinda goes blank.

Realistically it’s toxic, it always has been with them, but Harry still wants it. MERLIN does he want it. Anything and everything Draco will give him, and at this moment? With the other boy’s hands now working to undo his cloak? He no longer cares.

Harry - throwing all caution to the wind - deepens the kiss and without breaking away, grabs the blonde’s thighs to hoist him up onto the desk. He slots himself in between Draco’s legs to press closer into his heat. This is all so wrong, but it feels so, so right.

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fandom #drarry fanfiction #drarry microfic #drarry fanfic #drarry ship #drarrymicrofic #draco x harry #harry x draco #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #drarry angst #drarry ao3 #harry potter x draco malfoy #harry/draco #top harry #top harry potter #harry james potter #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #bottom draco #bottom draco malfoy #draco fanfiction #harry fanfic #draco malfoy x harry potter #harry potter microfic #author is sleep deprived #drarry smut

[fw00shy]

Slow Days, Bad Habits

When Draco told Pansy he was moving to Los Angeles, Pansy said, "Fuck off, you're not." It was a Thursday and the afternoon sun stretched over Pansy's fire escape patio like a lazy cat. Draco fished out the olive from his glass and ate it, saying, "No, I really am," when he really wasn't — lying was a bad habit of his, and he was five martinis deep — but the next day he woke up thinking: Why not?

Doing what he wasn't supposed to do was a relatively new bad habit of his (sure he used to break rules, but he never broke Father's rules) but it was by far his favourite. Doing the unexpected. Turning heads. Like when he wore the shirt the Muggle orphanage gave him for painting walls to one of his mum's "Sorry We Lost the War" benefits and Daphne said, "You? Volunteering? No way, I bet a thousand Galleons you bought that from a thrift store."

Los Angeles was everything London wasn't and everything Draco wanted to be. Cars built to go 300kph putting bumper-to-bumper down wide, yawning freeways. Plastic surgery to cover up whatever you didn't like about yourself. Every day Draco looked in the mirror and changed something different. What if he had a different nose? A larger mouth? Would his life change for the better? Some days he wished he had more time to figure out how to turn his life around. Other days it was a lot easier to let his eyes droop until every second stretched long and he lost track of it, another day lost in the waste of his life. 

When Draco saw Harry at the farmer's market he knew Harry had moved to Los Angeles to disappear. He knew this because Harry wore dark glasses and a cap pulled low over his scar. He knew this because the papers had reported Harry missing four years ago, and had never found him since. He knew this because he had moved to Los Angeles to disappear, too. Draco bought his oat milk and his strawberries and walked back home with them tucked under his arm, like his little secret. That was another bad habit of his now: secrets. Anything could be a secret if he wanted it to be. His favourite bench at the park. The line from an Ada Limon that made him cry. Waves crashing against the pier. The scent of jasmine in his mother's garden. And now, Harry, in LA. All his secrets. All just for him.

Draco saw Harry at the farmer's market again the following week, around 1pm when the stalls were packing up and the baskets of strawberries numbered in the ones and twos. Draco came to the farmer's market every week and some weeks they ran out of what he liked, but he was fine with that; this was the time best suited for him.

Draco watched Harry meander past the stalls, his hands behind his back, like he was browsing with no intent to purchase. But why? Maybe he was a ghost. Draco chuckled at the thought, and then he saw Harry walking toward him.

"I won't tell," Draco said. "So don't Obliviate me, please. I like my memories. Or the recent ones, anyway. I mean, they're nothing special. Just things like, eating a good peach. The sun sinking into the sea. Waking up and not being too hot or too cold. Normal things." (Running his mouth: maybe the original bad habit?)

Harry blinked slowly, his mouth slightly agape. He didn't look like he was going to attack Draco. He wasn't even carrying a wand. 

"So," Draco said, smiling, a little more confident now. "I won't tell if you won't tell?"

"You live here too?"

"Sure do," Draco said. "Do you want to come over?"

So it was their secret now.

Which was fine. More than fine, even. Draco didn't normally like to share, but he sure did like breaking rules. Especially his own.

#drarry #fwoosh writes #drarry squad #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #wildly #i seem to have 1k+ followers on this lil blog #thank you very much for following me!

[nelweensfic]

Second chance

For @drarrymicrofic prompt "Changes" . Thank you @cluelesspigeons for beta reading!

Harry noticed some changes in Draco’s behaviour ever since the beginning of the eighth year. Good changes. He smiled more, laughed more. And Harry couldn’t help but follow him to keep a watch on him. 

“You’re not going to be like sixth year all over again, right?” Ron sighed as they sat at theGryffindor table in the Great Hall. 

“Why are you saying it like that?” Harry struggled to stop staring at the blond Slytherin. 

“Because I can’t stand seeing my best friend being into… him!” Ron groaned. 

“You were the one saying that people deserve second chances. And Draco has changed!” Harry turned around to look at Draco again. 

“Right.” Ron sighed again before taking a bite of his chicken. He turned to the others at the table. “Who wants to place a bet on them? I give it two months.”

“Two weeks,” Neville said as he sat down beside Harry. 

“Hey!” Harry gasped. 

“They’re pretty dense,” Hermione argued. “It won’t happen before spring break.” 

Harry groaned. Of course they would bet on his love life. But as he looked at Draco again and saw him staring back at him with a soft smile, he wanted to prove them wrong. 

“Two minutes,” he said. He got up from the table and started walking. 

#drarry #drarry microfic #nelweensfic #harry x draco #drarrymicrofic #draco malfoy #harry potter

[undercoverwarlock]

Microfic: Evermore

I don’t know why I went. When the invitation showed up in the mail with Dudley’s almost illegible scrawl on the back, I thought - they don’t want me there, not really. But Vernon was dead, and I guess I wanted to see it for myself.

I stood in the back of the small church, arms crossed across my chest, watching the mourners in the service in their pearls and lace, their pressed shirts and boxy suits. A couple had glanced at me nervously on their way in, confused as to what this young man with his wild black hair and leather jacket was doing in their church. But it wasn’t them I had come to see.

Dudley walked right past me, Aunt Marge hanging heavily on his elbow. To be fair, with the sheer volume of her wails, I wouldn’t have noticed me either. But the two people I wanted to see me, to look me in the eye and realise who I had become without them in my life - well, one had only spared me a tight-lipped glance, and the other was squeezed into a coffin at the front of the church.

As I trailed behind them on their way to the churchyard, and then as I watched them lower him into the earth from beneath an old chestnut tree laden with spiky shells that rattled in the breeze, I thought, this is it then. I was nothing more than a raven, haunting a funeral for a man who hadn’t seen me since I was barely seventeen. I never had to see him again. But the thought brought me no peace.

Draco was waiting for me when I got home. He sat at the kitchen table, reading the Prophet with the slight scowl that he worried gave him wrinkles and which I usually kissed away with a smile. He looked up as I came in and hung my jacket up in the hall.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

I paused, one hand still braced on the wall from stepping out of my boots. I took a deep, shaking breath.

“I finally realised,” I said slowly, “that they never cared about me. Not really.”

Draco got up and pulled me into his arms. “Oh darling,” he murmured as I fell apart in his embrace, “my darling.”

Outside the kitchen window, a raven left its perch on the sill and flew off into the gathering night.

-

For @drarrymicrofic prompt, “raven.”

#harry potter #drarry #my writing #draco malfoy #drarry microfic #microfic #drarrymicrofic #draco x harry #harry x draco #angst

[skeptiquewrites]

Microfic: To Summon A Lover

for @drarrymicrofic prompt 'cranky'

It's one of Lavender's cranky ideas about soulmate magic. Sitting under a bridge somewhere in Cornwall—rosemary sprig under his tongue and an iris crushed in his grip—Harry's beginning to feel foolish. Surely it would have worked by now?

"Potter, what in Merlin's name are you doing down there?"

#drarry #drarrymicrofic #fifty words

[inheartofwinter]

For @drarrymicrofic 's prompt "Time loop". G | 542.

Maybe I will write more later. Fingercross that I would be able to create something decent.

They say that tomorrow never comes. Draco is sure they don’t mean it like this.

He stares at the Daily Prophet, silently willing the date on it to change. The date, probably relishing in Draco's agony, remains the same. It is the same the day before, and the day before that, and the day before the day before that, and— There are too many days before that, certainly more than Draco's liking, that Draco feels foolish to hope for something different. He still hopes.

Draco throws the paper at the wall. It always says rubbish, anyway.

“You know that’s not going to help,” says Potter from behind the kitchen’s table. He is buttering a slice of toast. On the table, there are two plates of perfectly cooked English breakfast, a mug of coffee and a cup of tea. Everything is made by Potter.

“What else are you telling me to do?!” Draco snaps back. “Sit down and drink coffee?”

Potter puts down the coffee mug he just drank from a second ago. “No. The world knows you hates coffee. But you can drink tea.”

Draco grumbles but sits down at the table. He sips the tea. He has to stop himself from moaning in pleasure as the liquid warms his entire body up. It is exactly how Draco likes it.

Draco glances up and catches Potter smirking at him. Draco glares at him.

After nearly a month of being stuck with each other, Potter has come to know too much about Draco’s habits and preferences for Draco’s comfort. Draco consoles himself that the contrary is also true. Draco also learns a lot more about Potter in that short time than in the previous ten years they have shared. However, if he is honest, that fact sometimes scares Draco shitless.

“You should go shopping for grocery. I'm getting tired of English breakfast,” Potter says between bites of egg.

“I'm not. You can get your own food if you don’t like it.” Draco throws back just to be contrary.

“Maybe I should.” Potter agrees. “Come to think of it, I don’t even have to cook. I can just get take away. Do you like naan?”

This is what discomforts Draco the most. It is getting harder and harder to anger Potter. Halfway through the second week, Potter doesn’t rise to Draco’s bait anymore.

“Aren’t you a bit too comfortable with this situation?” Draco grumbles. “People would think you love it.”

All pretend relaxation falls off Potter. His posture straightens up. His face hardens. “I'm not. I would sell my soul to get out of this.”

Draco mentally curses himself. There it is, the blank, world-weary eyes Potter occasionally wear. Against Draco’s better judgement, he knows that he would dig his own heart out if it could stop Potter looking that way. Between trying to get out of the time loop and having every meal together, Draco has fallen for Harry Potter.

Once again, Draco curses whatever has put them in this situation.

“Maybe we will figure it out today.” Draco says, hoping his lame comfort would cheer Potter up just a little. “And it will be like before again.”

Potter blinks. Then, he nods, looking less depressed but also kind of odd. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

#drarry #drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #time loop #pining #kind of domestic #btw it happens in Draco's kitchen

[cavendishbutterfly]

he loves me, he loves me not

for the @drarrymicrofic prompt "eerie" | 100 words | optional prequel

Harry wants to pretend he doesn’t read every love poem five times over. Maybe Malfoy’s owled seventeen sonnets to every eligible Wizarding bachelor, but it’s felt rather personal: what if you shook my hand; what if you held it. 

Harry wants to pretend he doesn’t stand outside the Manor at the edge of the wards, trying to see inside. As though the eerie, flickering light in the windows could illuminate some clue as to why. Or maybe, how much.

Fuck pretending. When the eighteenth owl arrives, Harry claws the envelope open. Reads like he’s starving for it. 

Maybe he is.

#drarry #my writing #harry potter x draco malfoy #hpdm #hp fanfic #drarrymicrofic

[ohdrarry]

“What the fuck is this?”

Potter, in a fit of rage, is quite the sight to behold. Magic sizzles around him, errant curls escape his lazy bun, spectacles sit a touch too crooked on his nose.

Draco sips his tea. “A transfer request.”

“For Merlin’s sake—“ Potter rubs the bridge of his nose, a tell Draco’s learnt to mean he’s confused and scattered, and entirely unwilling to admit it. “I can read, Malfoy. Why?”

“Article 9, Section 3 of the Auror Code of Conduct—“

“No,” Potter cuts him off. “Absolutely not.”

Draco puts his tea down.

“I wouldn’t have thought,” he begins, slow and careful, “that you’d have already forgotten— what we did. Right in this office, in fact.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Potter says. The transfer request is crumpling in his fist.

“Then you also remember it’s against the rules for us to remain partners—“

Potter stalks closer, until he’s towering over Draco’s desk. Draco’s mouth is desert-dry.

“Fuck the rules,” he says. This close, his scar always takes Draco by surprise, stark and ridged and white, cutting across his forehead and the top of his cheekbone. This close, now and every other time, he’s a riot of messy intensity. Draco can’t look away. “Merlin, Draco, when have I given a fuck about the rules? You leave me, I leave the MLE, there’s no point—”

“Potter,” Draco says. He’s weak and has never resisted temptation well. It’s no surprise this is all it takes for him to reach and cup Harry’s jaw, jittery thumb catching on the stubble shadowing his cheek. “Harry, I’m not that special.”

“Tell me you’re doing this because you think you have to,” Harry says, quiet and low. “Tell me you felt like you must, and not because you— because you want to get away from me. If it’s that, then I won’t stand in—“

“Don’t be silly.” It comes out sharp and affectionate, and Harry’s shoulders relax a little. “Nobody—“ he swallows, “—nobody else I’d trust to get my coffee order right, is there?” A flicker of a smile. Draco’s spirit sings. “Or—“ he says, huge and irrevocable and far too honest, “have my back in a fight. Only. It’s only you, isn’t it?”

Harry’s hand comes up, covers Draco’s where it still rests, trembling and uncertain on his cheek. He pulls it away, and for a split second Draco almost panics, until he realises Harry is lacing their fingers together, grip tight.

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Harry says. “The— us.” His mouth ghosts over Draco’s knuckles, warm and soft and plaintive. “I wanted it so long, Draco.”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Draco acquiesces.

They stare at each other, long, silent moments, breaths heavy.

“I’ll stay,” Draco nods eventually. “Of course I’ll stay, all you had to do was ask, just, say something Potter. Don’t you know that?”

Harry lights up with a grin so broad Draco wants to taste it, dip his tongue into it, merge his mouth with—

But Harry’s stepping back, towards the dustbin in the corner. Draco has a moment of confusion before Harry straightens out the transfer request still bunched in his grip and rips it to pieces. The parchment flutters, confetti-like, to the floor.

“You’re stuck with me,” Harry says, serious and determined, even though the smile hasn’t quite left his mouth. “Right here.”

“Where else—“ Draco clears his throat when the words come out raspy and tangled, “Harry. Where else would I possibly want to be?”

for the @drarrymicrofic prompt “pieces”. dipping my toes back in here after years and i could not stop thinking about messy auror partners!

#drarry #drarrymicrofic #draco malfoy #harry potter #hpdm #hpdm fanfic #drarry fic rec #drarry fic #auror partners #workplace shenanigans #geets tries to get back into writing

[cluelesspigeons]

This is written for the prompt “careless” from @drarrymicrofic

Word count: 197

Drarry microfic: poisonous

Cw: being poisoned

“I can’t believe you were that careless!” Draco exclaimed. He ran around the room, taking ingredients left and right and throwing them into his cauldron. “You know those plants are dangerous!”

Harry sighed from where he was sitting on the examination table. He had lost count of how many times he had been here. “I’ve been through worse.”

“You—” Draco turned around, his silver eyes ablaze. He pointed a long finger in Harry’s direction. “You are unbelievable.”

Harry huffed a laugh, a fond smile on his lips. He stood from the table and stumbled his way over to Draco. “I love you,” he said softly as he fell into Draco’s arms, ignoring the searing pain that shot up his back. “You’re amazing.”

“Oh, Merlin.” Draco sighed. “The poison must be spreading quicker than I thought when you’re spouting such nonsense.” He led Harry back to the examination table, making sure he was comfortable. “Hold on a little longer,” he continued. “The antidote is almost done.”

If Harry wasn’t currently fighting the side effects of the poison streaming through his veins, he would have thought he saw a deep blush on Draco cheeks when he turned back around.

Prompt from March 28th

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#drarry #drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x harry #harry x draco #my writing #cp writes #cluelesspigeons #march 2023 #healer draco #careless harry #poison #poisonous plant #love confessions

[multiverse-of-fanfic]

For the @drarrymicrofic prompt (Jun. 9): Dreamlover by Mariah Carey (HAPPY 30 YEARS TO THIS SONG BTW) 455 words (forgive me, it’s not very micro but oh well it got away from me)

Draco watches Harry down a third shot of Ogden's. He might be impressed if he wasn't so on edge.

"I can't believe it's happened again," Harry says on an exhale, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. "There must be something wrong with me."

Draco can't help but scoff. "Don't be absurd. There's nothing wrong with you. Well, other than your dreadful sense of style and inability to keep your beast's nest of hair tamed.”

Harry attempts to level him with an unimpressed scowl, but it comes across rather wonky and constipated-looking, vibrant green eyes the only part of it bearing any intensity. A lick of heat flares to life over the expanse of Draco's skin.

Giving up with a hiccough, Harry traces the rim of his glass with a lazy finger. “I really thought this time would stick,” sighed Harry, “but apparently I’m the type of bloke that takes eight months to realise his boyfriend is having him on.”

A sneer threatens to twist Draco’s face, but he’s just barely able to keep it simmering below the surface. It had taken every ounce of his willpower to stop from storming Grimmauld when Witch Weekly’s Summer Lovin’ issue had dropped with much fanfare, and Harry’s faux-beau had said Harry’s favorite dessert was tiramisu.

Now, he lives with a daily urge to confess his feelings to Harry. Feelings long harbored, long stoked, and long lasting. Because Harry deserves someone who won’t use him for fame or flee at the first sign of hardship. Because as much as Harry is The Boy Who Lived and The Saviour, he is also the nightmares Draco knows he still has about the war, and the flicker of shadow that crosses his face every May.

“Harry,” Draco says softly, setting his own glass to the side, enveloping Harry’s hands within his own. “There is nothing wrong with you. And there is someone out there for you. Someone who is everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Harry gazes up at him from under a curtain of raven black fringe, tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth. “Why can’t they just come get me and take me away? I’m tired of looking.”

Draco swallows dryly. “You never know. They could be right in front of you. All you have to do is see them.”

Ambient sound from the pub spills around them, but they are nothing more than a distant buzz when Harry looks at him intently, the world narrowing instantly. Draco has spent a lifetime observing Harry, knowing him…loving him. Understanding him and what he needs. There is no greater expert on Harry Potter than Draco Malfoy. Something has got to give, and he only hopes that this time it does.

#drarry #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #june 2023 #june 2023 prompts #draco x harry #harry x draco #draco malfoy x harry potter #draco malfoy #harry potter #harry and draco

[ghaniblue]

Found this in my notes. 50 words for the @drarrymicrofic prompt treasure

Harry is clawing at the rubble, knuckles bleeding and nails torn.

"Stop, Harry. Your hands." Ron grabs his shoulders, and Harry snarls, "Get off of me. I need to—I need…"

There, finally, a strand of golden blond hair. A shining beacon, gleaming in the sun amidst blood, dirt, and destruction.

#drarry #acari writes #acari writes drarry #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic

[fw00shy]

Accio is the only spell I know

part 2 of Slow Days, Bad Habits because I wanted to know what happened next

When Draco took someone home in LA, there was no cobblestone path, no chirpy doormat to prime guests as they walked up to his door. Instead, they entered through the garage and walked past the shelves of ancestral junk straight into his living room, where he forgot to clean up the takeaway from last night. It felt a bit like exposing all his guts to a stranger, and Draco blushed, plucking a fortune cookie wrapper from the carpet while Harry was distracted by a set of photographs hung up on the wall.

"You were so young in these," Harry said. He pointed to the one in the middle. "This is from first year, yeah? When you had your hair slicked back like a helmet."

"I'll never forgive Mother for that haircut," Draco said. He peered over Harry's shoulder and shivered with disgust. He wished he'd never been that boy.

"Oh come on," Harry turned, grinning. "It wasn't so bad. I thought it looked rather fetching, actually."

Draco raised a brow. "Really?"

"Really — well, I'd never met someone so blond in my life before. The perpetual sneer, however —"

"Let's not talk about the past," Draco said. He crossed the living room to the kitchen, his fingers drumming over the wine rack. "Cabernet? Pinot? Or, I've got a chard in the ice box —"

"Any will do," Harry said. He'd followed him into the kitchen and pulled out a chair from the little table in there.

"Oh," Draco said, watching Harry sit down at the scratched up table. Harry's skin looked sallow under the harsh lighting. Draco had thought they'd be in the living room — he hadn't thought — if he had known, he'd bought better lighting for the kitchen. He hadn't thought this through at all, this was a mistake, truly —

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked.

"Sure," Draco said. "Sure, let me just pop the cork—" he took out his wand — "Accio!" 

The wand flew across the room and hit Harry between the eyes. Draco watched with horror as the spot welted up and reddened an increasingly concerning shade of crimson.

"If you were trying to kill me —" Harry started, rather churlishly. 

"I wasn't!"

"— you missed. Again." Then he laughed and Accio'd the wine to himself, where he drank it straight out of the bottle.

"That's disgusting," Draco said, but he took the bottle and swigged when Harry offered it back. 

"It's lonely in LA," Harry said. He sighed, sinking into the chair. "I've been here four years and nobody knows who I am, which is great for the most part, but then there are moments when I feel — I feel like a part of me's gone missing. Like I look in the mirror and I can't remember who I used to be." He looked over at Draco. "I'm not like you." He smiled. "I change wherever I go. You haven't changed at all."

Draco tensed. "Let's not talk about —"

"The past, I know, I know," Harry said. "Say, you go to that farmer's market a lot?"

"Every week," Draco said.

"Even when it's raining?"

"It never rains here. That's the best part about LA. Sunshine every day whether you're up for it or not."

"And you like the sun?"

Draco wrinkled his nose. "Not really, no."

"You really haven't changed," Harry chuckled.

Draco frowned. "I don't know why you keep saying that."

"Saying what?"

"Saying that I haven't changed. That's — I don't like that. I've changed. I'm not Draco Malfoy anymore—"

"You've changed your name?"

"What? No. You know what I mean. I'm not the same boy who — who was a bully and a snob —"

"Still a bit of a snob. Not that I mind." He raised the bottle. "Snobs serve great wine."

"Are you even listening to me, Potter?"

Harry tipped back in his chair and grinned. "You really haven't changed a bit."

"Look here, Potter, I'm trying to apologise and —"

"Apology accepted," Harry said.

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Besides," Harry continued. "I think you've got my words all mixed up. Which, again — typical Malfoy behaviour. What I mean is you're still the same inside. You've changed your mind but not yourself. Even if you believe different things now — better things, in my opinion — you're still a posh git."

Relief spread warm across Draco's chest. "So you don't hate me?" 

"No, on the contrary. Being here's the first time I've felt at home in a long time. And you've still got that —" He blushed, looking away.

"Got what?"

" — nevermind."

"Tell me."

"No, I —" Harry's blush deepened. "It's a secret."

"I can keep a secret," Draco said. He lowered his voice. "Whisper it in my ear."

"Okay," Harry said. He leaned forward, cupping Draco's ear with his hand, his breath hot. "You've still got that cute dimple in your cheek."

Draco sat up, his hands flying to his burning cheeks. "Merlin!" he squeaked. Then he asked, maybe a little too eagerly, "Really?"

"You're so funny," Harry said. "Really."

"I've got a secret too," Draco said. 

"Whisper it to me," Harry said, offering up his ear.

"Okay," Draco said. He scooched their chairs closer, his hand on Harry's thigh as he leaned in and said, "You haven't changed either. You still drive me insane."

Harry's eyes squinted in confusion. "So does that mean—"

Draco kissed him on the nose. Then he pressed their mouths together, his hands on Harry's waist.

"I never know what you mean," Harry said, breaking away with a ragged breath. "At least, not at first."

Draco closed his eyes and breathed against Harry's neck. He thought about what Harry said, about how he'd changed his mind but not himself. Why had he spent so many years denying who he used to be? That Draco who made those mistakes was the same Draco who learned from them. One could not exist without the other. Was that so bad?

"But do you know what I mean now?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "Do you?"

"Yes," Draco said. Harry's arms came up around Draco. Draco sighed, pulling him in closer.  And in that moment, he finally felt like himself again.

#drarry #drarry squad #fwoosh writes #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #not sure how micro this is anymore #consider it's 1k #but it has major micro spirit???