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So incredibly happy to finally bring this out in the open. We have been working on this fic for over a month and i'm so so proud of both of us (more you than me@drarrywords ) we've put out time and dedication into this special fic and my dear friend have really out done herself. I actually can't believe it's out and more so I can't believe you're all gonna be able to read it. Thank you @drarrywords for collaborating with me, it has been a heaven working with you.
Here's to All Too Well 🥂.
More parts coming very soon.
Much love..x
All Too Well
this fic is written in collaboration by @drarrywords and @sorry-i-ship-drarry on an anon request
Part One (8.1K words)
“Because when you are in love, you understand love songs, you understand the beauty of kisses, of slow dances in the kitchen. But you understand heartbreaks too, the voids that one can leave that you want to fill with their voice, the memories you share with them. It’s beautiful, but it can ruin you.”
The first date might not be the most beautiful, oh-so perfect story that concludes with the softest kiss that lights up the corners of your heart. It’s too mainstream, too normal. Since when was a first date with him normal? But it’s a story that he cherishes in his heart because to him, it’s perfect, it’s beautiful.
It’s a Thursday night, the city lights reflecting off the sky: orange tinted clouds that press the summer heat against the sidewalks like a flower between the pages of a book.
Harry walks the length of the floor of his apartment with whiskey in his hand and wonders, with what amounts to only mild interest, if he is about to be stood up by his date.
So, now he had to be in his house with his cat who wasn’t too fond of him.
He isn’t sure why he had said yes. It was a surprise to him too. But at the time, he had said yes because he had wanted to. It was possible, however, that he might’ve said yes because he was out of his mind. Yes, that must be it.
The night before, he had told himself that the date would be a bit of an excitement, different from his routine and not more.
His mind traces back to the way Draco had said: I want to take you out on a date with that soft smile, a touch nervous. So, if he couldn’t form coherent, sensible sentences, it was Draco’s fault. But, he said a simple ‘yes’. It was a feat in itself that he didn’t stutter. But with the relief on Draco’s face, it was clear that he was as nervous about it as Harry was. More so.
He had, however, insisted that he do the reservations and the two of them had decided that Draco would come over to his place first because there was a chance that Draco might have to stay back at work.
He had called for a reservation at a fancy restaurant on that day itself, selected a date outfit of a navy blue dinner jacket and a white shirt that fit his form well. But it had been a waste because Draco had stood him up.
He was one hour late to the date so it was fair to assume that he was struck at work. Or that he had decided that Harry wasn’t worth his time (he had a low self esteem).
His cat was on a new mission for the night: ruin the couch, the pillows and cause more destruction in the house. He adores her with his heart and soul but she is such a menace, “Bella, can you not tear the new pillows to shreds and behave because if he does show up, I don’t want the house to be in a bad state.”
It startles him when the buzzer sounds at the front door.
More so when Draco hurtles through the door.
Draco’s blond hair is ruffled, small strands on his forehead. His chest rises and falls rapidly under his black shirt, a light sheen of perspiration on his face. He waves his hand at him in a way that Harry shouldn’t find half as adorable as he does.
“I’m so sorry, I had to stay back and finish some paperwork.”
The relief when you’re not stood up by your date is different. So he could find it in himself to forgive Draco for once. Sure, he wasn’t on time but it’s better late than never, “No, it’s - you’re here now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but I’m sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be.”
Bella curls up on the sofa and meows at him. She stretches with a yawn and buries herself into it. He strokes her fur, proud of her because she had left his pillows intact for once.
Draco closes the door with a soft thud. He paces over to him, a hand in the pocket of his trousers. It’s too much of a distraction, to be honest. Because Draco is - ethereal in that outfit of his.
Harry takes the final sip of his whiskey. So now, he has a date. A hot, ethereal, handsome date. He is more nervous about the date than he thinks because he almost fumbles with his glass before he places it down. But he isn’t sure he is so tense. It was new to him, “So, dinner?”
“Yeah, dinner sounds fantastic but I have a gift for you before we leave - brace yourself, don’t throw the nearest object at me when you open it.” He takes out a small blue box out of his pocket and holds it out to him, “Wear it to our date though.”
Harry takes the said box from his hand. He turns it over once and opens it. He can’t wear this on his first date to such a posh restaurant. In retrospect, he wants to throw the nearest object at him. Or this box for that matter, “Oh, you can’t be serious.”
“I’m serious, I dare you to wear that to our date tonight to that restaurant.”
It’s one of Draco’s most brilliant creations which Harry wasn’t too fond of, to be honest. The badges he created in the fourth year in the Triwizard Tournament. Such a charmer. The blond inches closer to him and taps on the badge. It turns from ‘Potter Stinks’ to read: ‘But he is hot.”
A delicate blush blossoms across his cheeks.
Draco scrunches his nose as he takes the badge from his hand and pins it on the top of his chest. So now, Harry has no choice but to wear it. So be it. “Isn’t it a fantastic gift? I modified it so that you don’t cancel this date but it’s true, you’re hot.”
“Says you. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Harry curses under his breath.
He wants the floor to open up and swallow him. Or disappear. Who says that on the first date? It was true but if he went on to describe his magnificence, he might write a poem about it and embarrass himself further because it might be a task to take his eyes off Draco tonight.
“Mm, creative.”
“No, it’s not and before I do more of that, we should head out for dinner.”
✵•. ✵°✵.｡.✰.｡. ✵°✵.•✵
The restaurant was on West 13th and 3rd, near a records store.
It was an Italian restaurant. He would’ve chosen a wizarding restaurant but it has been a while since he has been out in public there. He does not wish to be on the front page of the prophet because he was there more often than not.
He wasn’t too fond of being the topic of the conversation for weeks because people were more invested in his personal life than their own. But then again, what was the alternative? So, he remains out of the public eye instead.
A faint light falls over his eyes.
Harry thought of what colour they might be away from the shadows and artificial lights of the restaurant. Now that was a bad sign. You don’t wonder about the colour of someone’s eyes for no reason. It’s sort of close to a small crush if you do.
“You can’t be serious,” Harry says. He refuses to believe that. It can’t be true. Because no one has Mean Girls as their favorite movie. Doesn’t matter if it’s a personal preference, “Draco, no.”
“Or the notebook, that one is brilliant.”
“Mm, now that is a brilliant movie but I cry whenever I watch it so I would rule that out too. But to be honest, out of the movies that came out this year, Spiderman 2 was the best.”
“Debatable stance.”
Harry scoffs, because there is no way he will take criticism for that movie, “It’s not debatable, it was the best movie. It has romance, perfect action sequences and an excellent storyline so I’m 99.9 percent sure you share the same opinion.”
“No, we don’t have the same opinion on that movie.”
“I won’t take a movie critic from someone who’s favorite movie is Mean Girls and sure, why wouldn’t it be your favorite movie? It’s so you - you’re mean, you’re such a Regina George.”
Draco arches a brow, “Oh? No, I’m sure why Spiderman 2 is your favorite movie because it’s about a spider who is in some sort of trouble within the first two seconds because his survival instincts are of a kitten on crack - sound familiar?”
Yes, it sounds familiar. Who here is a) the chosen one b) had to save the world because he had superpowers (he did not have superpowers as such but the villain thought it would be cool to traumatize a child and turn him into a horcrux) c) had such top-tier survival instincts - Oh, wait. It’s him, “I’m sorry if I prefer a fight over a blonde barbie being mean, Draco.”
“I’m sorry if I prefer the said blond barbie over someone who was bitten by an unstable crime-fighting spider who shoots webs out of his hands and chooses to cope with half the problems in his life with humor or sarcasm.”
“Ouch, that is such an indirect way to say that you don’t like me.”
It elicits a boisterous, carefree laugh out of Draco and well - shit. Half an hour into the date and a pretty smile, and Harry was singing like a lovable urchin on a barricade in France. Oh fuck, this was the sort of stuff that ended up in the papers.
“Oh no, I do. Sarcastic brunettes with pretty green eyes and glasses and have an incredible amount of sass are the ones I’m attracted to the most.”
A delicate blush blossoms across his cheeks.
So, he has pretty eyes.
Oh, what a time to be alive.
He couldn’t sound much confident in return (it’s the nerves) or flirt, for that matter. But before he can come up with a response, a waiter walks up to their table, “Good evening, I’m Jacques - what would you like to drink today?”
Harry skims through the wine list, relieved that he can conceal the faint line of pink on his face for now. He could only hope that the nervousness wouldn’t clamber to climb out of him in static bursts of magic, “What is the best red wine you have?”
“I would recommend the Domaine Loubejac Pinot Noir, sir.”
“Sounds brilliant, we’ll have that please.” Draco says, as he hands him back his own wine list, a trace of faint amusement in his eyes at his reaction, his mouth curved into one of his self-satisfied smirks, “we’ll take the bottle, yeah?”
“Yeah, sure.” It was the most he could muster in that moment because that smirk causes his heartbeat to quicken in his chest and he can’t so much sort out the thoughts in his head, “that sounds brilliant.”
“I’ll be right back with your drinks, Sir.”
Draco nods, “I thought that you would choose some other place for our date and not a posh restaurant. A movie or a park or a bookstore date but you never cease to surprise me.”
Not the best options for a first date though.
Harry brushes a strand of hair out of his face, “We don’t share the same taste in movies, we’re not that old yet to have a date in the park and a bookstore sounds brilliant but I didn’t consider that.”
“Maybe our second date can be in a bookstore.”
If his heart fails to function right now, it will be Draco’s fault.
No, because he would love that date. It sounds much better than a posh restaurant because it’s ten times better. It was too domestic but while he was on that topic, might as well have that second date in a bookstore instead, “Yeah, yeah I would love that because I want to buy some books so -”
“Since when do you read?”
“I read more often than not, why does that surprise you?” He says as Jacques comes over to the table with a bottle of wine and holds it out for him to read the label.
“Would you like to taste it before you purchase the bottle, Sir?”
“Oh, sure but he would be a better wine taster than I am.”
The waiter nods and uncorks the bottle, pouring a teaspoon size portion into Draco’s wine glass. Draco picks up the glass and swirls it around and inhales it before he sips it, “Oh, yeah it’s perfect.”
“I’ll be here whenever you’re ready to order.” Jacques says while he pours the wine into the glasses, places the bottle in the middle of the table before he paces over to the other side.
Harry swirls his own drink around, takes a sip while he tilts his head back and the sweet, oaky liquid spreads out over his tongue. Yeah, it’s perfect. But he doesn’t have wine too often.
Draco flips through the menu, his nose scrunched up in the way it is when he reads. Harry decides to not focus on that (adorable) nose scrunch and pretends to be interested in his own menu instead. He has several options and he is somewhat indecisive. It’s hard to choose.
It isn’t the place he prefers but he doesn’t mind that since his date is rather proper and he wants it to be right.
If he is honest with himself, he should’ve chosen a better place.
Harry sneaks a glance at Draco from behind his menu and catches a hint of a smile on his face. He is rather cute when he smiles, with those dimples and the soft light in his warm eyes, “Harry?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Draco takes a sip of his wine, “Say, if we were to ditch the restaurant and instead, take our date somewhere other than here to a place that you and I both find better, would you be open to that idea?”
Shit, perhaps Draco can sense his discomfort. Now, he isn’t sure if he can form an articulate sentence but yes, if he has the choice, he would much rather be somewhere other than here, “I - can you read minds?”
He closes the menu and places it in front of him, “No, I’m not a mind reader but I’m observant and Harry, it was thoughtful of you to choose the most fanciest restaurant here, you have impeccable taste but I can sense that you’re out of your element here. So, if you want to take our date to some other place, there is a bookstore down the street that you might love.”
Harry has a burst of fondness in his chest; it’s like a small explosion which is pleasant but it startles him too.
But the reason he chose such a posh restaurant is because he wanted the date to be perfect and now, a bookstore would sort of be a bust but he would prefer that over a mainstream restaurant date, “Oh, I wouldn’t mind that, by the way. Bookstores are perfect, no matter what the occasion. I live and breathe books, so don’t overthink it, Harry.”
Harry fishes out his wallet and places the money for the wine on the table (more than he should) and stands up and holds out his arm to Draco in faint amusement, “So, shall we?”
It elicits a soft laugh out of him.
Draco straightens up and curls his fingers around his arm and the two of them head out of the restaurant, off to that bookstore down the street. Though it was sort of far, it was perfect to walk on a summer night with the beautiful city lights, the warm air and Draco’s hand around his arm.
“Thank you for that, it was a fantastic choice but for future reference, you don’t have to choose places that you aren’t comfortable in for me.”
“I wanted it to be perfect.” Harry says. Perhaps, he has placed a lot of power in Draco’s hand but he found himself possessed by an impulse to be honest with him, “Oh, did I seem too - I’m sorry.”
Though he wishes he could hold himself back, words come out of his mouth in a rush, “I wish that it could’ve been better and that we didn’t have to leave because I’m so - nervous for no reason and you’re - oh, you’re brilliant.”
“What?”
Harry turns to him, stricken, and thinks that he has it wrong once more. “No, I was the one who was half an hour late to out date and you must’ve thought that I stood you up and you wore that badge because I wanted you to which was sort of too much and I’m sorry that I was such an -”
“Oh no, don’t be sorry for that, it’s one of your most brilliant creations and I can’t not wear it and you said that I’m hot in a suit so I have to show off.”
Draco tips his head back and laughs and it was the most beautiful sound he has heard.
No one has to be sorry.
Not tonight.
✵•. ✵°✵.｡.✰.｡. ✵°✵.•✵
A soft music drifts in the store.
Harry was on the floor with Draco in the corner, on a soft carpet, with several romance novels open in front of them.
The two of them had decided to play a small game to amuse themselves.
You had to skim through the books and read the dirtiest line out loud. So far, it was 2-0 because Draco had only read the most romantic, beautiful lines so far. “Oh, hear this out - what is love? Oh, we have different definitions for that word. But where most of us search for our own definitions, I found mine - it’s him.”
Harry lifts his brows, “So profound but you misunderstand the point of our game, we have to read the dirtiest line - for instance, why doesn’t your mouth work? Now, that is one more point for me, you are a loser and I swear, if you read one more line from Romeo and Juliet, I will cry.”
“But soft! What light from yonder window breaks? ‘Tis the east and Juliet is the sun -”
“I will throw that book out of the window.”
“Arise fair sun and kill the envious moon, who is sick with envy. I take thee at my word,” Draco whispers in a soft voice with a small smirk (which causes those small bursts of fondness in his chest once more), “call me but love and I’ll be new baptized.”
“No comments on the fact that I said you’re a loser?”
“No, none but here, I found one: I want to come but the decision has been quite hard on me - now that is one point for me and here is one more - I found a position that I like, that is two points and he took it better than I thought which makes it three.”
The fact that he called him a loser must’ve struck a nerve.
Harry covers his face with a book to hide his futile attempts to conceal his laugh but Draco takes the book from his hand with a scoff, “Harry, you have the dirtiest mind, I swear.”
“As if yours isn’t.”
“Debatable stance,” Draco inches closer to him with a book in his hand, his features much softer now and a breath caught in his throat with a touch of hesitance in his voice as he says, “do you want to read together?”
“If that isn’t Romeo and Juliet, yes.”
“No it’s not, don’t worry.” Draco rests his head on his shoulder with a soft sigh, the book in his hand while he reads out the first chapter in his poshest voice and it didn’t matter what the storyline was but the fact that he can bask in Draco’s presence in a bookstore on a summer night was the most beautiful place to be.
✵•. ✵°✵.｡.✰.｡. ✵°✵.•✵
The warm light of the sun filters into the room through the cracks in the blinds and casts subtle shadows over the room. It cascades over Draco and that adds a beautiful colour to his moonlight-pale skin. Golden. He reaches out and trails his fingers over his bare back, over the smooth skin.
Harry retracts his hand, a small knot forming in his throat.
“Good morning,” Draco whispers as turns over to the side to face him, his warm, silver eyes much softer now. The flecks of blue in his eyes were visible too.
He can’t resist the small smile that threatens to form on his face.
“Oh, what time is it?”
Harry casts a tempus without his wand (sometimes he is shallow and wants to show off) and it reads 7:40 AM, which surprises him because he hasn’t slept that well for a month which is because his mind tends to wake him up with nightmares. But it’s the first night that Draco spent with him, so that might be the reason he slept well and didn’t wake up because of a nightmare.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
The suddenness of it startles him but he nods once he recovers from it.
But Draco seems somewhat hesitant now and it might be because he said it in the spur of the moment. It was understandable because he did that often himself, “It’s that - this is the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”
It was mutual.
“Same.”
“Since I told you mine, why don’t you tell me one of your secrets?”
A frown creases his forehead. He did have secrets but he couldn’t voice them out-loud. It wouldn’t be a secret if he did. He isn’t ready to do so, “But what kind of a secret?”
“Any kind.”
It’s soft next to you, it’s safe if I come close. Because there must be a destiny here, in your hands. When you walk in, my heart beats in a different way. The corner of your smile, the one towards me when you’re in the driver’s seat, the way it lifts when you look over me - it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen the stars like the one in your eyes.
“I don’t have secrets, Draco.”
“Oh no, we all have secrets of our own.”
You’re in the thoughts or the dreams that I have. I’ve learnt the slant of your brow, the sound of your voice, the rhythm of your steps and your scent. I would know you in other universes too, without a doubt. I would find you. I would choose you in a thousand lifetimes.
“If you insist, here is a secret: I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
Of crowds, of dark places and of isolation and of you. I don’t want to lose you and I don’t want you to break my heart. It’s yours to break but I want you to love it, to keep it safe, to keep it with you forever.
“Of those balloons which have a smiley face on them.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“No, I’m serious - it’s not a pretty smile because it haunts me.”
“Tell me one more.”
I love you.
✵•. ✵°✵.｡.✰.｡. ✵°✵.•✵
Draco closes the door of the car behind him with a loud thud, which reverberates in the silence of the night. He tilts his head up at the sky, breathes a slow breath, "It's your fault, you wanted to take this route because you thought it would be adventurous and now, we're in the middle of nowhere and our car broke down."
He decides to chime in with a quip to lighten the situation, which might've not been the best idea but he can't fix the car or do much here, "It is adventurous, we're in the middle of nowhere."
He receives one of Draco's most infamous stares but it's somewhat half-hearted, which translates to a silent treatment. But it would only ruin the night for the two of them. "Draco, I'm sorry."
But sorry doesn't cut it.
"No, you're not sorry, Harry."
Harry slides in next to him, interlaces his fingers with Draco's but Draco pulls his hand back and crosses his arms over his chest. It was worth a shot, but he has to do more than that if he wants Draco to break his silence and there is a chance it might not work.
"I - fine, I'm not sorry, Draco."
He breathes out a small breath and it forms a cloud of cold air in front of him. The scene out here is beautiful. Infinite stars cover the night sky. The moon illuminates the water below, over the serene waves that crash over the shore.
"Do you remember when we said we wouldn't do anniversaries?"
Because he remembers it well.
"You said you didn't understand the concept of anniversaries, of the celebration of love but in the first month, you went out of your way to recite those lines from Romeo and Juliet that you did in the bookstore on the night of our first date.
We danced in the kitchen in the refrigerator light on our favorite song and now it's our tradition to dance to it on our anniversaries.
You gifted me a poem that you had written for me and that badge in that blue box once more, but it said 'I love you, you stubborn pain in the ass' instead of what it said before because you weren't sure if you could've said it out-loud for the first time. But you did. You did when we were in bed that night, when I told you to teach me some phrases in French and the first words you taught me were Je T’aime which translates to ``I love you.”
It was one of his fondest memories of them.
"Oh, love," Harry leans closer and whispers into his ear, well aware of the fact that Draco has a weakness for that endearment (sometimes he is sort of shallow), "It's beautiful out here and more so because I'm here with you. So no, I'm not sorry that I chose to take the other route instead because you and I - we're here together."
He can sense that he has made some sort of a breakthrough here.
He turns to stand in front of Draco, with a small, apologetic smile.
"But I'm sorry that I ruined your plans for the night." He places his hands over Draco's own and rubs small circles on his forearm before he uncrosses them and to his utmost surprise, Draco doesn't resist.
He cradles Draco's hand on his own and places a small kiss on the back of his hand, "Hear me out, Juliet?"
Now, he has but one chance.
“But soft! What light from yonder window breaks? ‘Tis the east and Juliet is the sun -”
One more kiss on his forehead. “Arise fair sun and kill the envious moon, who is sick with envy.”
“I take thou at my word.” He trails his hands down to Draco's waist while he pecks his eyelids, his cheeks and the tip of his nose, which turns into a rich shade of crimson. He can't decide if it's because of the cold or not.
“Call me but love and I'll be new baptized.”
Draco resists the smile that threatens to form on his face, but it's sort of a futile attempt, "It's thee not thou."
"I said that on purpose, Juliet." Harry has a soft smile of his own on his face while a familiar warmth curls up in his chest.
It elicits a soft laugh out of him.
Draco's arms curl around him as he pulls Harry into a tight embrace, his face buried in his neck, "I'm sorry, I don't want to ruin it. Our anniversaries, it matters to both of us and I don't - I want it to be perfect."
Harry places a kiss on the top of his head, holds him close for a moment before he whispers, "It is perfect, I'm with you - what more do I want?"
He receives a light shove from Draco, "Now, don't be such a sap, no more sentiments."
His laugh filters out and he finds himself to be entranced by Draco's features once more, by the soft, silver eyes and the slight slant of his brow and that fond smile.
"Dance with me, Juliet?" Harry reaches up and pressed his hand against Draco's cheek, his brown bejeweled fingers a contrast to Draco's moonlight pale skin. Draco turns his face into the curve of his palm and kisses it.
"No, not if you call me Juliet and you can't dance well."
"I can dance better than you now, I've taught myself to be better than I was before." He says with a soft laugh while he leads Draco by the hand, closer to the water.
The moonlight soothes the beach into a soft, vibrant blue. The noise of the waves crashing the sand, the slight murmur of the wind.
Draco dips his head forward. Harry stays there - he has become a master at that by now - but his face heats up, "Prove it, Potter."
But Draco's hand is back on his waist and he pulls Harry close without warning and his hands are on Draco's shoulder and their hands are intertwined, "Who said you could lead, Malfoy?"
"Harry, you and I both know that you can't lead a dance, but you lead well in the bedroom when we-"
"Not now, Draco - don't do this to me." His movements are mismatched and he misses the four oh-so obvious beats that he has been counting in his head.
"You said you can dance."
"It's a warm up, the point stands."
Draco moves with more precision now with a rhythm in his head that Harry can't follow. Or figure out, for that matter. He stumbles, trips over his own feet and Draco's feet, "You're worse than before."
"By all means, teach me to dance."
"You dance in the beats of four - one, two, three, four," Draco demonstrates as he drags Harry around the area and because of the sand, it was sort of hard to follow him, "It's a box."
"It's not a box, it's more than that."
Draco places a finger underneath his chin and tilts his head up, his smile a touch hesitant and soft, "Move with me, yeah?"
So he does.
Draco leans forward, his mouth over his ear and starts to sing a song, under his breath so that Harry can make out the words and his own movements are swift now. It was a waltz, slow and sweeping and romantic in a way that made his heart almost flutter.
"Put your head on my shoulder
Hold me in your arms, baby."
It's that one time throughout the day when he wants time to cease and be here forever.
"People say that love's a game, a game you just can't win
If there's a way, I'll find it someday
And this fool will rush in."
Harry closes his eyes, leans his head against Draco's as the words wash over him.
Yes, it isn't one of the best ways to spend such an occasion but for now and to him, it's perfect because he is with Draco and with him, it's a beautiful, rose-colored world.
"Put your head on my shoulder
whisper in my ear, baby
words I want to hear, baby."
In all, it wasn't the worst way to spend one of your anniversaries, stranded in a beautiful place with your partner because your car broke down and you don't have a spare tire or a charm to fix it. Not the best, but it's not the worst. It's a fine line, "Oh, did I mention that I'm a fool for you, sweetheart?"
Draco dips him once more and holds him there only for a second, "You mentioned that several times over the month, yes."
"Brilliant, did I mention that I love you?"
"One hundred and four times this month, to be precise - voicemails and post-it notes and drunk confessions considered."
Draco slows down and brings their steps to a halt. He stands there for a moment while Harry leans on him more than he supports his own weight, "Oh, for the - why do you have to mention those drunk confessions of love?"
"No, I must mention the drunk confessions because you wanted to publish an article in the newspaper to proclaim your love for me."
"It's on the new to-do list of the year, I will do that one day."
"So, Harry - out of curiosity, is there a chance that I might be in that to-do list of yours?"
"You wish but there was one more task on the said to-do list and I suppose it's time to cross that off now."
Draco arches a thin, pale brow towards him, "One more task - wait, do you plan to propose tonight because if you do I -"
"I - what? No? What? No, I don't."
"Oh, I - I thought you were - I'm sorry, I'm not sure why that was the first thought that occurred to me."
Harry hums, "No, there is no proposal tonight and if there was, I'm sure I wouldn't've been so discreet about it and that you would've pieced it together for sure."
"True story."
"But, I have a gift for you and yes, I know we said we wouldn't do gifts on our anniversaries either but I couldn't resist so here," He takes off the concealment charm on the box which now rests in his hand and holds it out to Draco, "but be careful, it's delicate."
"But Harry, we said no gifts on our future anniversaries."
Harry kisses the back of Draco's hand, turns it over, places the box in his palm and encloses his fingers around it. "Yeah, yeah we did but don't consider this one, consider the anniversaries after this one."
"But why?"
"Because I love you?"
"Oh, you and I both know that isn't the reason, Harry."
"I - fine, do you remember when we went to Japan for a trip, I gifted you an omamori charm for luck and protection and you said that no one has done something so thoughtful for you before?"
"Yes, I remember that and I said that Tokyo had turned you into an absolute sentimental idiot, too."
"Oh, if I'm such a sentimental idiot, why do you have the omamori charm with you now?"
"Harry, I carry it with me everyday."
"You - wait, why?"
Draco softens as he takes out the said charm, turns it over in his hand. It's blue with a small inscription on it, "Because it reminds of that thoughtful gesture. Because whenever we have a fight, it reminds me of that time in Tokyo when you bought this charm for me and thought that I didn't notice. Because it reminds me of you."
A knot forms in his throat.
Harry caresses Draco's cheekbone with his thumb while pressing their foreheads together as he whispers, "You're more sentimental than I am, for the record."
"Now, that is a discussion for the near future because the point stands, you're more sentimental and we'll take our friends' opinions into consideration, which, by the way will be -"
Harry places his palm over Draco's mouth to cease his incessant ramble because now isn't the time to discuss who is a sentimental one here, "Open the gift, will you?"
Draco swats his hand, "You could've chosen to kiss me instead but no, this is what you decide to do to shut me up."
"I'll return your gift."
"No, wait, I'll open it but don't you dare threaten to return it, Potter."
Draco breathes a slow breath and small nose scrunch, he opens the box which elicits a soft gasp out of him. Not that Draco had mentioned that he wanted that but Harry is observant when it comes to him. But Draco doesn't treat himself with such gifts and Harry has to do it for him instead since self-love is a concept that is somewhat of a sensitive subject with Draco, "I - wait, is this the -"
"The watch you've wanted for months? Yes, it is."
Draco traces his fingertips over the dial, the corners of his mouth curving into a delicate smile, "It's - it's beautiful."
"Turn it over."
On the back of the watch is an inscription. He did consider fifty four options, to be precise before he decided on the one engraved on the watch. Yes, it was simple, but it was significant, "We can have it all?"
"Yes, we can have more bookstore dates where you and I read lines from romance novels or Romeo and Juliet, in your case. We can have trips to new cities, new counties and we can fall in love more and more in the new places. We can have nights where you paint while I read out your favorite poems to you. Or blanket fort nights. We can watch sunsets together, we can be under the night sky and select our favorite stars. We can dance to our song in the kitchen in the refrigerator light. We can have more of our anniversaries, more of our movie nights and the fights that we have when we have to choose a movie, we - we can have it all."
The tears in the corner of Draco's eyes are visible and he can hear the slight tremor in Draco's voice when he manages to whisper one word with some trouble, "Profound."
"Draco, love - do you want to cry?"
"I - you can't be -" Draco clutches the watch tighter in his hand, words struck there, soft whispers of them in the space in between the two in the silence, "you're serious, yeah because if you're not I -"
Harry places his hand underneath Draco's chin, "Yes, I'm one hundred percent serious, love. I want to have it all and more with you."
He presses Draco into his chest and Draco's hand clutches fistfuls of his shirt, the watch held tight in the other. It must be heaven because his body hums. He can't catch his breath or manage to form a sentence but he takes pride in that because it's the first time that he has rendered Draco speechless, "I can't believe you."
"Why, don't you want that?"
"I - no, yes - wait, yes I want it all with you, too."
It's one of those moments where you're sure that the stars and the planets must've aligned themselves because this is where you were meant to be.
So here he was.
“We can have it all.”
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The pictures are on the coffee table in front of him, some of them scattered and some in photo albums. He has a black leather-bound album in his own hand, an inscription in french on it that translates to our baby munchkin.
"So, he was such a crybaby, he would cry for hours and hours and because it would endear Narcissa so much, there will be several pictures of him crying in here."
Harry opens the album and sure, the first picture of the said munchkin is swollen eyes, tears on his cheeks and a red nose, "No difference now, he remains the crybaby he was or more so - we tolerate him though."
"No doubt, no doubt, he will remain a crybaby no matter what."
Narcissa sends a half-hearted stare towards her husband, "You both trouble him too much when you're together - is that the only common ground you can find?"
"Oh, thank you, mum." Draco sends a cold stare of his own towards Harry but it doesn't hold the intended effect because he is immune to them by now, "But if you do more of that, father, I swear -"
"What will you do? Cry?"
"No, if you do more of that, Harry and I will not visit you two."
Lucius turns over the page and shows him one more picture of Draco on Christmas with a small maroon sweater, the soft light of the tree on him, "Harry, you can come here whenever you want to and without this crybaby, if you will."
"Harry won't come here without me."
"I will."
"No, you won't."
"Yes, I will and you were a cute baby by the way but who cries on Christmas?"
"Narcissa and I decorated the tree without him and he did not take that too well so he decided to cry for an hour."
Narcissa is far too amused by now to so much as take Draco's side now, "Oh, yes and we had to take down the decorations because he wanted his ornament to be the first one on there - a crybaby, indeed."
"I wasn't that bad."
"No, from what Lucius and Narcissa told me, you were much worse."
"Yeah, your mother wanted to cast a 'silencio' on you once because your crying wouldn't cease and I was on her side but I thought we should be more patient."
"I - father, no."
The banter went on for a while.
The album had more pictures, too. Draco on his first toy broomstick, in the kitchen with Lucius and Narcissa, one where Draco is opening his presents, more pictures of them together and those pictures had stories.
But there was one more story to the last picture in the album.
It was one of Harry with the other three on Christmas, near the fireplace in sweaters where the four of them are invested in cards and he can't recall when it was taken but below that, in Lucius' elegant cursive are the words: Our family Christmas, 2004.
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“It's said that when you're in love, to you, it's a gift beyond measure and that love paints your skies in the most vibrant colors and fills it with the most brightest stars.
But love instills a fear in you, that hides in the small corners of your heart. You might not realize it, but it's there. It threatens to shatter your heart, threatens to leave your skies colourless and without those stars.
Because what do you do with a sky that loses it's stars and colours?
What do you do with a heart that loses the one it loves?”
The truth is, you can’t locate the exact moment such a fear threatens you for the first time because there are several of those and for him, it’s no different.
It could be one of those drives where the two of them would be out of town together to their safe haven. Or it could be that one night in the back of the car when his fingers had walked in his hand.
Or the night Draco had taught him the names of the stars and the constellations, the night when he had told Harry of his favorite stars in the sky.
Or it was now.
“So, I read that there is an area of space that is devoid of galaxies and it’s called the Eridanus supervoid which is one billion light years across and there are theories that it is the imprint of a parallel universe.”
Draco reads such theories more often than not. A month ago, he went on this site on the internet which convinced him that humans live in stimulation and decided to mention whatever he had read on date night and that had screwed with his head for weeks. But it endears him so he hears him out, “A parallel universe?”
“Yes, and our universes can’t meet and if we were to reach the said parallel universe, our own selves in that universe will reach our universe too.”
“So, we can’t meet our parallel universe selves?”
“No, because if it’s a parallel universe, the occurrence of events there must be the same - so if we’re here on the rooftop at the moment, our parallel universe selves might be on the same rooftop, in the middle of the same conversation.”
“Debatable, I’ve read that there are absolute points in time which must remain the same in a timeline of a certain universe - so, what if that absolute point in the timeline of the parallel universe isn’t the same as ours?”
“But, it has to be because it’s a parallel universe and if it isn’t, wouldn’t that be an alternate dimension or an alternate timeline instead?”
“Mm, true.”
He stares into the sky in front of him, a sky with an absence of stars because of the light or air pollution of the cities. He can count the stars in the sky here - there are fifteen stars in the sky and it’s not much. Because there was a time where it would take nights for him to count the stars in the sky.
“So, do you suppose there is an alternate universe where I stay here with you, in a universe where we can have it all together and in a universe where I don’t have to move 6884.9 miles from you?”
It will be a rose-colored universe if it exists. He wishes that was his timeline because he is that selfish. A timeline where Draco stays with him, a timeline where the two of them can have it all. But it isn’t and now, he has to live with that. “I suppose there is.”
“It could be our universe, we can make it ours.”
“Do you want to make it ours, Draco?” Harry whispers into the night as Draco lays on the rooftop by his side. He hears him shift so that he can look at Harry, and he mirrors him.
Draco pushes himself up on an elbow so that he can look down at him, a trace of sadness on his face and his voice a soft whisper as he says, “Harry, I would rewrite the stars to make that universe ours but on a more realistic note - I wish we could.”
Harry turns his head to the other side, tears on the corners of his eyes. Might as well have the conversation that is overdue, “So, what will that entail for us?”
“I don’t want to break up.”
Harry wishes he didn’t need so much of him but he does because now, he has so much to lose and it renders him defenseless, “It might not work out between us with the distance.”
“Harry, I can have that heart of mine break a thousand times over if it’s you who breaks it but for once, for the both of us, don’t break it.”
The fairy lights along the edge of the roof casts a faint light over his moonlight-pale skin and his heart clenches in his chest. He wants to remember this forever, the way these lights dance over his skin, the way it adds more colour, “I don’t want to break your heart or mine.”
“But?”
Harry reaches out and places a hand on his cheeks, “But you won’t stay here and yes, I don’t want you to stay here because of me but the prospect of this new distance between us - it’s hard to process and it might break our hearts soon. You were a constant throughout the years but now, you won’t be here, you won’t be with me and when you move, you’ll take a piece of my heart with you.”
“So, I’ll leave a piece of mine with you.”
Draco removes the ring that he wears around his neck with a pearl white stone on it, the one that is in a delicate silver chain. “It’s a birthstone ring, mine is a moonstone and it’s tradition that we wear it over our hearts and if you hand it over to your partner, you hand over a piece of your heart to them and so, here is a piece of mine - it’s yours. Yours to break, yours to love.”
A knot forms in his throat.
Draco places the chain with the said moonstone ring in the palm of his hand. It’s a piece of his heart in his hand, “It’s yours, but promise me that you won’t break it.”
“Cross my heart.”
tagging some people for a boost, you can ignore this if you like<3 @phoebe-delia @rockingrobin69 @nv-md @krystalliumm @missdrarrydawn @slytherinnbitch @drarryboosterclub @thecornerofbelu @jooncookie @silver-de-vonne @harryandginnydeservesbetter @just-ineffable-things @sitp-recs @textrovert-01 @chinike @confictura-210 @l0vegl0wsinthedark @draco-and-harry-malfoy-pottah @ladderofyears
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Part Two