yuvikaagarwal



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    The Malfoy Manor lands are lush and verdant. Bees hover over carpets of flowers, and ducks paddle in the pond. It is a place far removed from bustling London and pesky reporters; it is a place where Harry finds what—and who—he didn’t know he was missing.

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    18 Sep 2021

  2. Public Bookmark 59

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    "How do I go on living after everything I've done?"

    Since the war ended, Draco has been living in a haze. He goes for long walks; he picks up small things that catch his eye. But he will do anything to keep himself from remembering.

    When the ghost of Professor Burbage appears to him though, he must learn to put the past to rest. If he doesn't, it might just keep on haunting him.

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    18 Sep 2021

    Bookmarker's Notes

    And since she made no moves to leave, he let himself continue crying.

    He cried for the pain of the Dark Mark carving into his skin.

    He cried for Dumbledore and Katie Bell and even Weasley.

    He cried for the crucio he’d never meant to cast at Potter.

    He cried with relief that it never hit.

    He cried for the Death Eaters taking over his house.

    He cried as he acknowledged it would never again feel like home.

    He cried for Lovegood and Ollivander and Granger, cold and bleeding on his floors.

    He cried for the people he tortured at the Dark Lord’s behest.

    He cried for the battles he should’ve fought, the scars he should’ve received.

    He cried for Potter saving his sorry life in the fire.

    He cried for loving him when he shouldn’t, for not letting it make him brave.

    Most of all, he cried for the woman named Charity Burbage – and how someone so incredibly caring and wise could be murdered for something as radical as kindness. He cried and cried and cried.

  3. Public Bookmark 30

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    Harry’s living above the shop in Knockturn Alley, working as a private detective after a failed stint as an Auror, when he gets an invitation from Luna Lovegood to the last place he could have imagined: Malfoy Manor.

    As Luna and Draco’s friends gather for the weekend, it isn’t only memories of wartime violence that surface. It seems that a lot of the guests have things they want to hide, including murder.

    It falls to Harry to solve the mystery, and while he’s at it, to untangle his feelings for Draco Malfoy once and for all.

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    18 Sep 2021

    Bookmarker's Notes

    After all these years of looking, has Harry ever really seen Draco? The sunlight pooling on the floor of the attic catching his white blond hair in a halo of light. The faint blush of high colour across his high cheekbones. The sharp line of his jaw, the rope of muscle down his neck, the hollow at the base of his throat. He is vital, alive, beautiful.

    Draco shifts under Harry’s gaze and when he looks up his anger has entirely dissipated — he is just tired and sad and young. And without really thinking about it, Harry slides down from the ledge and kneels in front of him reaching out to clasping his hands and letting them rest there, coupled in Draco’s lap.

    The image that comes to him in that moment is of Hermione, as he just left her, her face a mask of unwonted misery.

    Such cowards.

    He knows what he has to say.

    “Draco.” Harry’s tone is so low that he leans in to be heard. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I didn't stop to talk to you, that first night. I should have, but you’re right, I didn’t think. Maybe if I had, I would have realised some… things. About you. And also about me. What I was really doing — and how it really felt, being with you.”

    “And then,” says Malfoy, and there’s just a flicker of warmth in all his coolness, “then you would have been so exhausted from these previously untried activities — thinking and feeling — you probably would have had to go straight to bed alone.”

    “And wouldn’t that have been a shame?”

    “Oh yes, quite a tragedy.”

    There is very definitely a small smile now, playing around the edges of Draco’s mouth, and Harry can’t help but grin back, a little foolishly.

    “I am sorry, Draco,” he says again. “I think you’re fucking brilliant.”

    Draco goes over to the place where his father had fallen, looking down at the empty carpet as Harry joins him. He seems very far away all of a sudden, even standing right here beside Harry — lost in a moment of his own complicated grief.

  4. Public Bookmark 18

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    A drabble collection based on picture prompts, all revolve around Draco and Harry.

    Language:
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    17 Sep 2021

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    When the Patronus came, Harry stopped mid-shave and Apparated to the Ministry. He barged inside the Auror office, looking thunderous. ‘Who has him?’

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    17 Sep 2021

    Bookmarker's Notes

    When the Patronus came, Harry stopped mid-shave and Apparated to the Ministry. He barged inside the Auror office, looking thunderous. ‘Who has him?’

    This is a perfectly normal reaction, he told himself. Draco is a colleague. Not his partner, but a colleague, nonetheless. This is what people do when their colleagues get abducted.

    He cast a series of diagnostic spells, which indicated the presence of a concealed building. Another spell, hands freezing on his wand, and a cottage shimmered in view, snug between two rocky outcrops. Harry Disillusioned himself, Silenced his footsteps and slipped through the unlocked kitchen door towards the voices at the back of the house. ‘—if undressing me was what you wanted, all you had to do was ask,’ Draco’s voice drawled, sounding supremely unconcerned for someone who had been abducted.

    Harry peeked around the corner. Two chairs sat in front of the fireplace. Draco was in one of them, his hands and feet tied, his hair golden in the firelight. Opposite him sat a man Harry hadn’t seen before, brunette, dark-eyed, handsome the way granite can be handsome, all angles and sharp lines and austerity. The man wore an unsettling smile. His hands were on Draco. ‘I simply wish for you to remember who hurt you the most,’ the man rasped as he popped one more of Draco’s buttons. He smoothed the shirt collar open, stroking Draco’s collarbone with one long finger. Harry’s blood boiled; his hand clutched his wand so tightly he almost broke it.

    This is a perfectly normal reaction. Draco was a colleague; a friend, even. They’d been out for drinks once or twice. People were protective of their friends. ‘Here,’ the kidnapper murmured, his finger trailing down Draco’s chest. He traced one of the scars all the way to the end, pushing the shirt open some more, exposing Draco’s nipple. ‘This is your reminder of who caused you harm.’

    ‘I have to warn you I’m ticklish.’ ‘You seem so sure of yourself. No one will find you here. You’ll be here for days, Auror, until I can crack you open and get everything I need. Days and days and days at my merc—aarggh!’ A crack echoed in the room and the man’s left arm bent at an unnatural angle. He shoved to his feet, eyes wild around the room, when his other arm broke with a snap. Harry, his heart thumping so loud that it was all he could hear, aimed the wand at the man’s left leg.

    This is a perfectly normal reaction. Draco turned his face towards the direction of the spell-casting. ‘I knew you’d come,’ he whispered, closing his eyes in relief.

    Harry removed his Disillusionment and strode into the room, his arm almost shaking from wrath. How dare this man touch— How dare? The dark rage that consumed him overflowed, spilled out of him. He wanted to harm this vermin, frantically scrambling towards the corner as if he’d escape Harry’s vengeance. He wanted to make him hurt; this man who collapsed, screaming, on the wooden floor when his left leg gave way; this man who screamed some more when Harry aimed his wand at his right leg.

    ‘I’m glad he only has four limbs,’ Draco quipped after the final snap echoed in the room, and Harry, his heart roaring in black fury, Stunned the kidnapper, tied him, gagged him, and finally turned to Draco, gulping deep breaths. They gazed at each other. Harry could remove Draco’s binds with one spell, but he needed a moment. He circled behind Draco’s chair and slashed at the rope tying his hands together. ‘Are you OK?’ His voice came out hoarse.

    ‘I knew it was a matter of minutes. I managed to activate my wand locator before he grabbed me,’ Draco said, stretching one arm in relief. ‘Where are the others?’ Harry bent his head, still trying to calm down. He moved at the front of Draco, crouching between his legs to cut the rest of his ties. ‘They’re coming.’

    The tsunami that had carried Harry from his bathroom to the Office to the Hebrides to this living room pushed him to his knees, and in one fluid movement he hauled Draco down by his shirt and kissed him. A startled, pleased noise escaped Draco’s mouth, before he kissed back, hands sliding in Harry’s hair. Harry clung on Draco, fisting the fabric of his shirt, pressing him close, as close as he could manage until they lost their balance and collapsed on the ground.

    The fire warmed Harry’s back, and his pulse had finally settled in a sweet, fluttering beat, like a bird trying out its wings. The others would be arriving any minute now, and they had to separate, look professional, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to let go of Draco, not after the yawning abyss of terror he’d felt when the Patronus had brought the news of his abduction. He traced Draco’s neck. ‘What did you want to ask me before? Before I—?’ Had Draco read his emotions on his face?

    ‘Before you kissed me? I wanted to ask…’ he said, giving him another look of startled wonder, ‘did you only shave half your face this morning?’