Draco Malfoy? I think you mean Draco Malfoy-Potter

For a prompt, Harry and Draco arguing about a book they both read. ❤️ 😍

Hello! Thank you so much for the prompt ❤️ This idea popped into my head as soon as I saw your ask, and I just ran with it. 100% unbetaed and written in one sitting and hardly proof read even by myself so you have been warned! Hope you enjoy.

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“No,” Draco said. Firm, no room for arguments. The manuscript was still open in his lap and, based on his sour expression alone, Harry was pretty sure about which particular chapter it was open to. 

“I know it’s not the most … accurate,” he started, but Draco cut him off with a look.

“Not the most accurate? This is— Harry, this is bullshit. It’s a downright trivialisation of everything you went through, how could you agree to this?” 

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “She seemed really passionate about it, and it’s for children, you know, she couldn’t exactly go into great detail. I get why she wrote it like this.”

“It’s your decision, of course it is, but I have never known you to value sweet lies over the truth, even if it’s terrible. Especially if it’s terrible.” Draco closed the manuscript and put it aside, stood up. Harry braced for the inevitable. “The muggle world, the people who read it, will see this as pure fantasy. If this is how you want the story of the battle to be known, the story of everyone we lost and of your own death, if you want to let her turn Voldemort into some snake creature with red eyes, then tell Joanne she can publish it. I will know the truth, and most importantly, you will know. It is your decision. But you asked for my honest opinion, and I owe it to all these years of marriage to tell you that she wrote the first three books with children in mind, but that from the moment the tournament starts, she sacrificed that innocence in favour of a darker storytelling method that would have allowed her to write the events in a much truer fashion, and she chose not to. The books are fantastic, and I’m certain they will entertain a large audience, but they’re just not the truth. I’m not sure I even want to know how this one ends.”

He looked into Harry’s eyes, searching, and after a couple seconds, sighed and walked out of the room, leaning heavily on his cane and leaving Harry to stare at the manuscript for the last book of the Harry Potter series, still open to the page that had made Draco so angry, a page near the end. 

Quicker and easier than falling asleep, it said. Not the truth. 

Harry covered his eyes, took a deep breath, and made the call that would sell that lie to the entire world.

Hi I love your writing so much, I get so happy when I see you on my timeline♡ You say that you take requests (idk if you wanna write this, its totally okay if you dont) so I was thinking about drarry where Draco lost one of his legs from below the knee after the war & no one really knows so when he and Harry starts dating after the war Draco is really self conscious bc they haven't had sex yet and what if H doesnt find him attractive? So kinda how H finds out maybe? You can make your own twist!

Draco does not talk about the leg.

It’s not that he’s ashamed of it - which is not to say that he never was, because the looks people gave him when they found out were always a cause for shame, and it took him a long, long time to realize that that shame wasn’t his to bear; it was theirs, anyone who looked at him half in pity, as though they could somehow know what it’s like - it just… doesn’t come up, generally.

He doesn’t see how - or why - he should bring it up in conversation. It’s not like everyone goes around telling people what body parts they have or don’t have, and Draco’s body is no one’s business but his own.

It’s already been five years since he lost the lower half of his right leg - when he was seventeen, thanks to a rather nasty curse his aunt Bellatrix threw at him when she found him a spy - and, in that time, he’s told exactly two people: Pansy and Blaise.

That’s it. He hasn’t had anyone else he wanted to tell it to, and, because of magical advances, his prosthetic looks exactly like his leg used to. He can - and has - had sex with people without telling them, when they didn’t matter to him. Originally, this was supposed to only be another one night stand. Of course - as with many things in his life - Harry Potter seemed to take one look at Draco’s general rules and thoughts of life and proceeded to think ‘fuck that’ and completely changed them all.

Which is exactly why Draco has been dating the git for six months now.

“You alright?” Potter frowns lightly down at Draco. They’re sitting on the sofa, watching a movie in Draco’s flat, and Potter’s hand is on his hip, trailing soothing circles on his hipbone.

“Fine,” Draco responds shortly.

Let’s get one thing clear: he doesn’t need Potter. If the - now ex - Gryffindor git suddenly decides to break up with him after he finds out about Draco’s leg - or lack thereof, he thinks sardonically - Draco will deal with it, and he will move on, because it is what he does. He doesn’t want to have to get over Potter though.

Potter presses a kiss to the top of his head, and Draco leans his head against his shoulder.

Draco could not tell him, he knows, but he refuses to hide any part of himself from people he loves. 

And fuck, but he thinks he does love Harry.

“Are you watching the movie at all?” Potter asks, amused.

“No.” Draco admits. He can’t concentrate. He straddles Harry’s lap, and rests his on his shoulders, around his neck. “Want to snog?”

Potter laughs, but leans in and kisses him tenderly.

It’s not long before Draco’s straddling him, and though it’s comfortable - and it is more than comfortable, believe him - and Draco’s more than ready to do more than this - he’d never spent six months in a relationship without having sex - he’s… nervous. Harry - and it’s only Harry when Draco’s admitting he’s in love with him or when they’re touching - evidently notices.

“We don’t have to, love,” He says softly, lips against Draco’s neck. “I won’t pressure you.”

“It’s not that.” Draco moans. “It’s just - it’s-”

Harry’s hand drops from his thigh to his calf, rubbing at the exact spot where prosthetic meets limb.

He archs an eyebrow.

Fuck. 

Magic can make it look like whatever it wants, but the prosthetic is still most distinctly not flesh.

“I-” Draco tumbles off Harry’s lap and sits on the sofa beside him, rubbing at his forehead. “I’m, uh. I lost my leg. Not my entire leg, just - below the knee. While I was spying for the order.”

It had been hell, at the moment, and it had been hell after. Draco had been in so much pain, and even after he’d been rescued, after he was supposed to be alright again, the pain persisted, centered in parts Draco didn’t even have anymore. It had been frustrating, to say the least, but, thankfully, the phantom pain has been getting rarer and rarer in the past five years.

“What happened?” Harry asks quietly.

Draco swallows. He feels like he’s told this story a thousand times, even if he knows that, realistically, he hasn’t. “You know that… that I was found out.” Not found out. Someone had ratted Draco out, someone from the order, but - to the day - Draco doesn’t know who it was. “Aunt Bellatrix wanted - she wanted to know what I told you.”

Draco - even through the pain - had felt the deep, vicious satisfaction of watching her face twist when he’d said ‘everything’.

Harry looks furious for the half a second it takes him to get his expression under control. When he does, he says, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

“There’s nothing more to talk about,” Draco gives half a shrug. “That’s all there is.”

“Do you want to take it off?”

The prosthetic is uncomfortable - even more so because he’s been wearing it too often, lately, because he’s been around Harry - and he itches to take it off, but he doesn’t, yet. He didn’t think Harry had noticed.

“I-” he swallows. He can’t help but feel oddly vulnerable, and he doesn’t know how to continue.

“Fred - you saved him.” Harry says softly. Draco remembers that; he’d been in recovery for six months by the time the Final Battle broke out. He’d had no desire at all to show up, but he did, because he had to. Because his part was not done yet, he knew. It’d turned out that he’d been right. “He lost an arm, though. He - I know it’s uncomfortable for him, wearing it for too long. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Draco hesitates. He’s used to doing this when he’s alone - mostly because he lives alone and he rarely goes to places where he can do this - and though it’s different with Harry here, it’s not uncomfortable.

It’s never uncomfortable.

He takes it off. Harry doesn’t look away from his eyes as he does, and, when Draco leaves it by the leg of the sofa - because he has forgotten he’s not wearing it more than a few times and ended up sprawled on the floor for trying to stand up without it - and waits.

Harry moves closer to him and kisses the top of his head.

“Film?” he offers, pointing to the still-on TV. He grins. “Or more snogging?”

Draco grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him into a kiss.

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NOTE: Alright babes so I read these articles (1 2 3 (there are a lot of personal experiences in that third one so if ure interested that’s the link i would recommend)) to give myself an idea of what it’d be like… however, I know that reading is nothing like the real thing, so I really really hope I didn’t get this wrong and if it is in any way offending/insulting/pathetically uninformed please let me know

Hey I love your fictions Could you also write a high school Au where Harry's the basketball captain and Draco's a nerd and the've been in love since they were childhood friends but Draco's still insecure because everyone loves Harry Thank you

Draco’s not the type to go to basketball games. He’s definitely not the type to go to the afterparties after a win, or the pity parties after a lose. He’s also not the type to enjoy public displays of affection, or the type to ever break a single rule, or to ever snog with someone. He’s done all of those things, though, because he’s dating Harry fucking Potter, Draco’s best friend of almost thirteen years now and boyfriend of two years. 

They began dating when they were only fifteen, and, by now, at seventeen, one would think Draco was used to all the love and attention Harry got, the way people look at him like he can do no wrong.

Truth is, Draco’s not used to it, at all.

“You alright?” Harry’s lips are pressed against his ear, and, after he’s finished speaking, he presses a soft kiss against Draco’s temple.

“Alright,” Draco murmurs, pressing closer to Harry’s side. His boyfriend has an arm wrapped around his waist possessively, and they’re sitting on the cafeteria, surrounded by several of Harry’s little lovesick fans.

“Anyways, I was saying, Harry-” Romilda Vane wraps her hand around Harry’s forearm, and Harry smiles at her; it looks strained, and awkward, and Draco knows it doesn’t mean anything, but he can’t help the spark of jealousy he feels.

Fuck, but Harry could have anyone he wanted, and he’s with Draco. He wants Draco. 

Draco still can’t believe it, some days.

Harry spends his afternoons training, and his nights at parties and drinking or celebrating with friends. Draco spends his afternoon doing homework in the bleachers, waiting for Harry to finish practice, and, only has two friends: Harry, and Blaise Zabini, the captain to their rival school’s basketball team.

Neither of them like each other one bit, unsurprisingly.

“That’s all very interesting,” Harry assures quickly to the girl that’s speaking. “I’m not feeling well though. I need to go outside.”

Draco immediately straightens and frowns, worried. Annoyingly, so does everyone else in the table.

“Are you alright, Harry?”

“Are you feeling well, Harry?”

“Is there anything I can do, Harry?”

Draco hates it.

“Nothing serious,” Harry assures quickly. “Just want to breathe in a little fresh air. Draco will come with me.”

“I can go with you, too, Harry.” Another girl, a year below them, says. “I’m sure Draco wants to stay here-”

“I don’t,” Draco says quietly. He’s not the type to speak loudly, so this crowd rarely hears him; all of Harry’s friends and fans are incredibly loud, so Draco ever gets to say anything in conversation.

Harry always hears him, though.

“He wants to come,” Harry says, and Draco nods when everyone turns to look at him.

After a few minutes of making excuses and Harry actively removing hands off himself, they manage to make it outside. Draco’s favorite spot is beneath one of the oak trees near the edge of Hogwarts’ - their school’s - grounds, and Harry takes them straight there, leading Draco gently by holding his hands.

“Are you alright?” Draco asks anxiously, the second they’re alone. He reaches up to cup Harry’s face, checking for any sign of when Harry’s feeling unwell. His ears get red when he has a fever, his eyes get darker when he’s tired, and his skin goes ashen when he’s nauseous. “What are you feeling? I have some medicine on my-”

“Draco, Draco, I’m fine,” Harry soothes, placing his hand over Draco’s and turning his head, pressing tiny kisses to Draco’s open palm. “I don’t feel unwell.”

“You don’t?” Draco frowns. “But I-”

“You looked like you could use a break,” Harry admits. He runs his hand through Draco’s hair and then wraps his arms around his waist. “Are you alright, darling?”

Draco flushes at the nickname, and Harry grins arrogantly.

“Shut up,” Draco mutters, hugging him closer. He bruies his face into Harry’s chest - his favorite place since Harry’s growth spurt shortly after they started dating - and inhales deeply. “I did need a break. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Harry kisses the top of his head. “Are you coming to my game tonight?”

Draco hums in agreement.

Of course he is. Harry doesn’t even need to ask. Draco hasn’t missed a single one of his games since they were five and Harry joined the basketball team, he’s not going to start missing them now.

“Of course.” He answers. “Is there a party after?”

“Yes,” Harry says. “But I thought we could miss it tonight.”

“Really?” Draco asks, a tad too excited. Harry laughs.

“Yes.” He blushes slightly and looks away, before looking back down at Draco. “I - this is sort of a special date.”

Draco immediately stiffens. Fuck. Did he forget their anniversary? Harry’s birthday? The date of their first kiss? But no, that’s impossible, because Draco knows all of those by heart and has them marked in his calendar with several alarms.

“Which special date?” Draco asks.

“I - err - itwaswhenifirstrealizedilikedyou.” Harry rushes out.

“What?” Draco asks. 

Harry clears his throat. “It was when I first started liking you.”

Draco’s entire face goes scarlet. “You know the date?”

“Yes,” Harry grins bashfully. He drops a kiss to Draco’s forehead. “And I want to celebrate it with you. What do you say, darling? Have dinner with me?”

Draco practically purrs, and then his flush darkens. 

“Yes,” He says. “I’d never miss it.”

Harry grins and presses a deep kiss to his lips. 

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