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Harry Potter is a Soppy Git: A Series of Harry/Draco Drabbles and Ficlets

Chapter Text

Title: Harry Potter is a Soppy Git Series: Part 1-The First Kiss

Author: Icicle

Rating: PG-13 for now

Word Count: ~1200

Pairings: Harry/Draco (established relationship)

Warnings/contains: H/D established relationship, smitten!Harry, insecure!Harry, Potions Master Draco, Muggle-tech-loving-Draco, humour, fluff, flangst, drunkenness, and snogging

Author's Note: All comments and feedback are welcomed! I'm also more than open to prompt requests for future drabbles. Enjoy!

 


 

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Harry sits at the end of the bar, the back of his chair pressed up against Malfoy's, who is smiling animatedly and talking with his hands, as he always does when he's particularly excited about something. His eyes shine and his mouth moves at what feels like a million miles an hour. Harry can barely keep up as Malfoy rambles on about some Potions assignment he'd given to some unfortunate Fourth Years.

Even so, Harry grins back and tries not think about how strangely comfortable all this feels—sitting with Malfoy, sharing a pint and a plate of chips as if they were old friends, as if they had known each other forever. The warmth building up in his chest is disconcerting. It must be all the drinks.

They've been doing this for six months now, meeting every Friday night at the New Hog's Head with a bunch of their friends—an intermixed group of Gryffindors, Slytherins, and even a brave Hufflepuff, or curious Ravenclaw. Tonight is the first time that they are alone though. Everyone else cancelled, except for Pansy, who had ducked out some time after their second drink. They were on round four now.

After Malfoy finishes his Potions story, he reaches for the plate of chips at the same time that Harry does. Their fingers brush together and Harry recoils at Malfoy's touch, the warmth of his knuckles, spreading an almost electric shock up his arm.

"Sorry," he says, hoping Malfoy can't see the redness developing on his cheeks. For once, he's thankful for the darkness of the pub.

If Malfoy is surprised by Harry's reaction, he doesn't show it. Instead, he traps Harry's other hand under his, giving it a slight squeeze. "The chips are all yours. I'm going outside to get some air, Potter." He stands from his chair and turns around to leave but not before sending Harry a heated, almost knowing look.

Is that an invitation? Harry is confused. Malfoy has always been an enigma to him.

During school, he never understood why Malfoy said and did terrible things, and after the war – well – this new Malfoy, is almost more confusing— a Malfoy who teaches Potions and appears to have abandoned all his former pureblood ideology as he pals around with Neville and Hermione when he's not teaching and even chaperones the newly formed Muggle Studies for Witches and Wizards Club— an elective he fought to make mandatory for all Slytherins. The same Malfoy who always brushes up against Harry when he passes by and greets him with the most amazing and luminous smile he has ever seen.

Harry knows he's gay. It's not exactly a well-kept secret, but what about Malfoy? The truth is he's been harbouring a secret crush on his former blond enemy these last few months, but he was certain that's all it was, an innocent, unrequited crush, right?

Could Malfoy actually be gay? Could he fancy him back?

Granted, in all the weeks they've been meeting, not once have they spoken about Malfoy's love life. But Harry knows better than to think that the only Malfoy heir could ever be bent, let alone fancy him. Even if Malfoy has changed, they aren't living in an alternate universe.

But that look, that almost hungry expression that Malfoy wore when he squeezed Harry's hand, disturbed him. He doesn't know if it's because the four pints are affecting his judgment and sense of self-preservation or maybe it's because Harry's always been a bit stupid when it comes to Malfoy, but he decides to follow Malfoy. He needs to know what this is, if he's imagining the chemistry between them or not?

 

 

❤ ❤ ❤

 

 

Harry finds Malfoy leaning up against a wall outside in the alleyway of the New Hog's Head. One knee is propped up against the wall as he fiddles with his mobile in front of him. His forehead scrunches in concentration and a green scarf is wrapped around his neck. It's a sobering sight, Draco Malfoy, former Slytherin Prince and Death Eater, embracing Muggle technology. Harry knows that Malfoy asked Hermione to familiarise him with Muggle devices, so he could teach his students. But Harry never imagined that Malfoy would actually find Muggle technology so entertaining. This new Malfoy continues to astonish him.

As Harry clears his throat, Malfoy looks up from his phone and greets him with a smile, that same radiant smile that always causes Harry's pulse to race. His hair is windswept, cheeks and nose tinged pink from the cold, and Harry thinks he looks positively adorable. Damn, he has it bad.

"Malfoy, hi," Harry says, trying to keep his voice from sounding breathy, something that happens much too often around Malfoy.

"I'm glad you're here, Potter. I was about to come find you." Draco smiles again, causing Harry to take a deep breath. "Hermione just texted. She says there's some type of emergency in the Slytherin Dungeons. I have to get back."

"Oh." Harry's face falls; he tries his best not to look too upset, but this is not at all what he expected when he followed Malfoy out here. At least he got his answer. Malfoy is definitely not interested in him if he's running off so quickly.

Apparently, Malfoy notices Harry's disappointment. "I had a really good time tonight, Potter."

Harry stares down at the floor, pretending he finds Malfoy's shoes interesting. "So did I." His voice is so soft, he's afraid Malfoy might not have heard him.

"I really am sorry I have to run." Malfoy pauses for a moment and Harry swears he sees his left hand trembling. How odd. "We'll do this again next week, yeah?"

"Right." This time, Harry looks up and meet's Malfoy's gaze; his eyes are shining again, glazed over in what Harry could only describe as lust, but that doesn't make sense.

"Don't look at me like that, Potter. I'm serious." Malfoy removes his leg from the wall and steps closer to Harry. "I always have a good time with you."

Harry gulps, having Malfoy so close makes him light-headed; it's positively dizzying.

"I-I—" Harry doesn't know how to respond. He can't stop staring at Malfoy's silvery eyelashes, which flutter rapidly, his pink, full lips, slightly chapped and windburnt, begging to be kissed.

He continues to stutter, all thoughts jumbled thanks to Malfoy's sexy lips, not that Harry's ever been that articulate. Luckily for him, he doesn't have to say another word.

Malfoy wraps his arms around Harry's neck and pulls him closer, kissing him right on the mouth. Harry is shocked. Draco Malfoy is actually kissing him, those sexy lips pressed against his, devouring both his oxygen and any sanity he had left.

This all feels like a dream, one of the many fantasies he's had over the last few months. Perhaps he's even dreaming now, passed out in alley somewhere from one too many pints. Either way, he doesn't care. All he knows is that he never wants this to stop. He closes his eyes and melts deeper into Malfoy's kiss—Harry's mouth is hungry, breathless, that same light-headed vertigo, threatening to undo him.

When Harry finally opens his eyes, attempting to catch his breath, Malfoy has pulled away. His eyes are wild and his hair sticks up in all directions, almost as if he'd been exposed to static electricity.

"Draco—" Harry finally says, voice hoarse.

Malfoy backs away, his eyes still wild, frantic even. "Potter, I'm sor-sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Harry wants to protest, to tell him he has nothing to be sorry for since Harry has been yearning to do that for months. But before Harry can respond, Malfoy disappears. The idiot Disapparated, leaving Harry more confused than ever.

 

TBC...


A/N: Thanks so much for reading! All comments are greatly appreciated. Also, if you have any prompt requests for future drabbles leave them in a comment. Have a great week everyone!

Cheers!

~Icicle

Chapter Text

Title: Harry Potter is a Soppy Git Series: Part 2-Gryffindors are Brave

Author: Icicle

Rating: PG-13 for now

Word Count: ~500

Pairings: Harry/Draco (established relationship)

Warnings/contains: H/D established relationship, smitten!Harry, insecure!Harry, Potions Master Draco, Muggle-tech-loving-Draco, humour, fluff, flangst, Hermione and Pansy are bffs, drunkenness, and snogging

Summary: This will be an ongoing collection of Harry/Draco drabbles and ficlets of various lengths. They will each feature a snippet into the developing and ever-changing relationship of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. The second ficlet features Harry dealing with the fallout of his first kiss with Malfoy. This series will take place in a Post-Deathly Hallows AU where the epilogue never happens.

Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! Part two is dedicated to the lovely Natalie Price, who inspired me to keep writing this series. This piece has not been beta read, so please excuse any errors.


 

 

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Harry stares at his mobile for what feels like the hundredth time that hour. The new message alert light remains off, making Harry wonder if it might be broken. There has to be a reasonable explanation why he isn't receiving any texts. Right?

Frustrated, he opens his flip phone and checks again. With a quick wave of his wand, he activates the magical charm on his phone, which Hermione had invented to allow Muggle mobiles to respond to magic.

You have no new messages. A cheery voice that sounds way too much like Luna chimes throughout the room.

"Bollocks!" Harry yells as he chucks the phone across the room. It falls with a loud crack, and Harry can't bring himself to care. He's never been fond of Muggle technology, not like Hermione. Once he became a wizard he left that part of his life behind. Why would he ever want to do things the Muggle way when he had magic?

He didn't miss it at all. In fact, he used to keep his phone at the bottom of his trunk, completely forgotten—that is until three months ago when Malfoy had shown up for their weekly pub night—new mobile in hand, bright eyed and oh-so excited about mastering the art of texting. Harry had melted, of course, when Malfoy had casually and expectantly asked for Harry's number. He claimed he needed to practice, so he could teach his students. Harry had willingly obliged, feeling thrilled at the prospect to get to know Malfoy better.

But that was before.

It's been two days. Forty-eight bloody hours since Malfoy pulled that infuriating kiss and run act on him. And he hasn't heard from him still. Usually, Malfoy texts him every day, multiple times a day even, but there's been complete silence since the kiss.

Harry can't believe this! He's wanted Malfoy for months, dreamed about kissing that haughty mouth. The last thing he expected was for the git to snog him and disappear. In such a short time, Malfoy's become such an important part of his life. How did he not realise this earlier?

Things can't continue like this. He'd wanted to give Malfoy space after the kiss, to allow him to handle whatever crisis he faced at Hogwarts. But Harry's been a bloody mess since Friday and tomorrow he returns to work. They need to sort this out like adults and soon.

If Malfoy regrets the kiss, wants to pretend like it didn't happen, then that's fine with him. Well, it's not fine per se, but he would rather 'forget' about their kiss than lose Malfoy's friendship—that arrogant blond Slytherin has wormed his way into Harry's heart. He doesn't see that changing in the near future. Merlin's hairy balls. When did Harry's life become so complicated?

With a heavy sigh, he summons his mobile from across the room. He casts a quick Reparo, making sure the phone didn't sustain damage from Harry's little temper tantrum. He reminds himself that he's a Gryffindor—and Gryffindors are brave.

If Malfoy doesn't want to speak to him, that's too sodding bad. Harry will not take no for an answer. With a newfound determination, Harry dials Malfoy number. The prat better answer.

 

TBC...