so i’ve started a new drarry fanfic! i’m only going to be posting it on ao3, you can read it here!
In which Draco Malfoy the wizard ceases to exist by the hands of some unavoidable vengeful magic, and is replaced by Draco Malfoy the wizard who doesn’t know he’s a wizard. While living a bumbling and confusing Muggle life without a lick of memory regarding his past, he’s stumbled upon by none other than Harry Potter. Harry is, of course, even more confused as to the state Draco’s in, working in a Muggle flower shop of all things and having no apparent reaction to Harry’s presence. It looks like Harry’s found himself a mystery – one that he intends to get to the bottom of.
from this prompt list
Prompt #179: “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”
When Harry and Draco
were randomly paired to share a room for their eighth year of their Hogwarts
education, neither of them was thrilled about the arrangement. But, the war was
over, and Harry wanted to be able to put the past behind him. After a few months,
the two become civil towards one another - friends, even. One quiet evening,
tucked away in their room with the intention of studying for their impending
NEWTs, the two boys open the door to a conversation that concerns the feelings they’ve both been
harboring for years and what’s really bothering Draco Malfoy.
WC: 1,431
Rating: T
Harry Potter was commonly believed to be a hero. Everyone he met wanted his autograph, a picture together, or the opportunity to express their undying gratitude to the savior of the wizarding world. Harry fucking hated it. But regardless of his adverse feelings, this reaction seemed to be the case with nearly everyone he came in contact with, aside from his fellow returning eighth year students. This happened to include Draco Malfoy.
Draco fucking Malfoy.
The next morning, Harry awoke with a headache that felt like the Cruciatus curse’s younger brother. He rolled over in bed, groaning.
“You’re awake.”
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Draco’s voice. “I guess,” he replied. He looked up to find Draco sitting cross legged on his bed, scribbling away on some parchment. “What time is it?”
“About half six in the morning,” Draco replied casually. “Are you still feeling,” he paused, “confident?” The smirk on Draco’s face was enough to send Harry into oblivion.
“That was real?” Harry asked. “I had hoped I had dreamt all of that.”
“Why’d you hope that?” Draco asked, putting his quill down.
“Because I made a fool of myself,” Harry replied, a bit shocked Draco had asked him to elaborate. Maybe it was just to humiliate him further.
“Well,” Draco said, standing up and straightening his shirt. “I quite like a man with confidence.”
***
A few nights after their agreement and mutual spilling of secrets, Harry sat on his bed, waiting for Draco to return from wherever in the castle he had disappeared to. He really needed some help with the calming draught he was supposed to be able to brew effortlessly, and Draco was the best at potions; Hermione had even conceded to Draco’s knowledge of the subject (not to Draco’s face, of course). Harry knew he could still ask Hermione, but for some reason he found himself looking forward to the idea of Draco helping him instead.
Now it was about 9:30 at night, an hour after Draco was normally back in their room. Harry never asked him where he disappeared to, he figured it wasn’t any of his business. Harry had already gone ahead and tried brewing the calming draught once, but it turned out a thick, clumpy green mess and he knew it definitely wasn’t right. He discarded the contents and tried again, producing a nice looking soft blue liquid. If Draco had been there, he thought, Harry would have known if this time it was correct or not.
But Draco wasn’t there.