Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Harry, past Draco/Astoria and Harry/Ginny, background Ron/Hermione, James Sirius/Teddy
Word Count: ~2,400/21,000
Content/Warnings: past relationship, wanking, sexual fantasy, anal fingering, anal sex, tattoos
Summary: Twenty-five years later, Harry and Draco find their way back to one another.
Read on AO3
"Harry! How are you?" Hermione asked as she pulled him in for a hug and kissed him on the cheek.
"I'm fine, Hermione." She gave him a searching look as he smiled. "Truly."
"Well, I'm glad." She led him into the kitchen where Ron was stirring something on the stove that smelled delicious. "Harry's here."
Ron looked up. "Come and try this, Harry. I'm not sure if it needs more oregano."
Harry gamely tasted the tomato sauce. It was perfect. "No more oregano needed."
"Excellent. Food should be ready in a few minutes then."
"I'm glad you finally accepted one of our dinner invitations, Harry," Hermione said as she pressed a glass of red wine into his hand. There was only the faintest hint of reproach in her voice.
"I know, I'm sorry. Things have been…weird these past few months. I think I needed a little space to get my head on straight."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Just don't forget you have friends, Harry. I know things are a little more complicated now, but Ron and I will always be here for you." She looked him in the eyes, expression fierce. "Always."
"I know. That's part of why I'm here, actually."
"Oh?" Hermione looked intrigued.
"Dinner's ready!" Ron called out from the far side of the kitchen.
"It'll keep. Food first, yeah?"
As it always did, dinner with Ron and Hermione grounded him. He'd been worried about the dynamic, now that Ginny wasn't there, but Harry realised that he'd been worrying for nothing. Ron, Hermione, and he had been friends for a significant majority of their lives. They'd survived wars, dragons, and petty jealousies; they could survive anything.
They spent the meal talking about their jobs and their children, catching up on the past few months as if it wasn't strange that this was the most in-depth conversation they'd had together in months. It wasn't until they'd finished eating and moved to the living room that the underlying reason for Harry's visit came up.
"So, Harry, what's on your mind?" Ron asked during a lull in conversation.
"Ron!" Hermione reprimanded. It was obvious she had been waiting for Harry to bring it up first. Harry could tell it had been killing her not to jump right it.
"What? It's obvious that something's been eating at him. He's been struggling with whatever it is all night. I figured I'd save us all the trouble and get the ball rolling."
Hermione sighed in fond exasperation, and Harry couldn't help the small smile that stole across his face. These were his best friends. They loved him. It would be fine. Still...
"I'm not really sure I know where to start."
"Does this have to do with the divorce?" Hermione asked tentatively. Harry and Ginny had both explained to their friends why they were splitting up, but it had felt strange going into details with Ron and Hermione, knowing how much they loved Ginny as well. He knew the fact that he and Ginny had separated had been hard on them.
"Not really. Not exactly. Ginny and I...I loved her, I don't regret anything, we just grew apart. We changed, but not together. Somewhere along the way I realised that I love her, but I'm no longer in love with her."
"It doesn't have anything to do with why we divorced. But it's something that might come up and I don't want to hide anything, especially not from you, not anymore." Ron and Hermione exchanged puzzled, worried glances, and Harry tried to swallow down his anxiety. If he was going to tell them, he should start from the beginning. "Why didn't you ask me about what I was doing that year and a half before Ginny and I got back together?
They blinked slowly, clearly thrown by the turn the conversation had taken. Harry pressed on. "I know you both realised I was seeing somebody or going out and...there were plenty of nights I couldn't come over and my excuses were crap. I can't believe I thought I was being sneaky. You had to have known something was up."
Both Ron and Hermione seemed to have recovered, comprehension settling into their expressions. "We didn't want to pressure you," Hermione said. "We thought that you'd tell us when you were ready, when it became important enough for us to know. You seemed happier than you'd been since before that war. We didn't want to ruin that by pressing you to talk before you wanted to."
"Did you want us to ask?"
Harry sighed. "No. I wouldn't have said anything if you did. I was...involved with somebody, one somebody. It was only ever supposed to be a casual thing—part of why I never brought it up."
"Supposed to?" Hermione prodded.
"I'm pretty sure I was in love with them."
Hermione sucked in a breath. Ron only nodded. "If you loved them, why did you get back together with my sister?" He didn't sound angry. He didn't even sound curious. It was as if he already knew the answer and was just waiting for Harry to confirm it.
"I was still in love with Gin, too. I never stopped loving her, and…" He took a deep breath. "The person I was with...it was a bloke."
Hermione's eyes widened in astonishment, but to Harry's surprise, Ron only looked quietly thoughtful.
"You don't seemed shocked."
"I guess I'm not," Ron said after a moment. "There was that party Mum threw, after the war, when she was still desperately trying to pretend that everything was okay. There was something about the way you looked at Charlie that made me wonder. And then you didn't really date anybody after you and Gin broke up..."
"You never told me that!" Hermione said.
"I thought I'd just been seeing things," Ron complained, defensively. "Harry never brought anybody 'round, and then he married Gin. It was obvious that was real. Honestly, I'd forgotten about that party and my suspicion until just now."
Harry remembered that party. He remembered the giddy, guilty feeling of being alive, Firewhisky burning through his veins. Charlie had come to the party with one of his friends from Romania, a handsome bloke with dark skin and warm eyes. He'd seen them leaning a little too close, their touches lingering a little too long. It had sent goose flesh shivering over his skin, a wriggling, squirmy feeling settling into his stomach. Harry was impressed and a little embarrassed that Ron had seen and understood what was happening to Harry with such clarity. Especially since, at the time, Harry hadn't quite realised it himself.
"Why didn't you tell us, Harry? God, it's been over twenty years!" Hermione's voice was tremulous, and she didn't bother hiding the hurt.
Harry cringed. He'd known they'd be upset that he hadn't confided in them, but being confronted with the reality of it was still uncomfortable. "It wasn't about you. I love you both, I know you would have been okay with it. I was...well I wasn't really sure what to say, how to tell you. Not just about the bloke thing, but about who the bloke was."
Ron's eyes narrowed. "It wasn't Charlie, was it? Because—"
"No, it wasn't Charlie." Harry let out an inelegant snort of laughter. "How do you think that would've worked? He was all the way in Romania the majority of the time."
Ron huffed and Hermione's brows furrowed in thought. Harry could practically see the moment when she connected the dots, shock sliding easily over her expression. "Oh, Harry. Tell me it wasn't—"
Harry smiled weakly. "Do you see why I couldn't have told you back then? You all hated him. And, well, I did too, sometimes, but maybe that was part of it." Harry's skin warmed at the memory of bitten lips and pinned wrists. He cleared his throat. "It was only ever supposed to be a physical thing. I wasn't supposed to..."
Hermione's eyes were perfectly round; Ron's were squinty with confusion. "You've lost me. Who is it you were seeing? And why has it broken Hermione?"
Harry sighed, bracing himself before finally saying it aloud. "Draco Malfoy."
Ron's mouth dropped open. "Well, fuck me." Harry's cheeks reddened further and some of what he was thinking must have shown on his face, because Ron groaned loudly. "Oh, mate, why'd you have to go and put that image in my head!"
"I'm sorry," Harry said miserably. He didn't particularly want Ron picturing it either.
After several long, uncomfortable moments of silence, Hermione said tentatively, "Why are you bringing this up now, Harry?"
"We had lunch, earlier this week, Draco and I." Two pairs of eyebrows crept up towards hairlines. "He's been on my mind a lot lately," Harry admitted. "Being back in Grimmauld Place, hearing James go on about him...We ran into one another outside Gringotts, and I asked him to lunch."
"Do you still...have feelings for him?" Ron asked. The idea of it was clearly a little mystifying to Ron, but Harry appreciated the effort.
"Yeah, I think I do. He's different—we both are—but I want to see if...if maybe we could be something."
"Does Ginny know?"
"She knows that I like men, but she doesn't know about Draco. Both of us agreed to leave past relationships behind us when we got back together."
"This isn't only a past relationship, Harry. This sound like it could be a future one." Hope and possibility fluttered in Harry's stomach at Hermione's assertion, at the easy way she accepted that Harry and Draco could be dating. Hermione smiled softly. "We're different, too, Harry. Older. I'm sorry that you didn't feel like you could come to me back then, but I understand why you didn't. I was...angry, and Malfoy was an easy, and not entirely undeserving, target. But life looks different after twenty years and two children. If you want to see Malfoy, I'll support you."
"Yeah, mate. You know we've got your back. No matter who you're interested in." Ron couldn't seem to bring himself to say Draco's name, but it was a step, and Harry was grateful for it.
"You shouldn't wait too long before telling Ginny, though. Better she hears about it from you than from the Prophet."
Harry shuddered. "Hopefully it won't come to that. I'm still not quite sure where I stand with Draco. Lunch didn't end as...amiably as I'd been hoping. As soon as there's something to tell, I'll tell her."
Harry fervently hoped that Draco would give them a chance, especially once he told Draco that he'd come clean to his best friends.
Tomorrow. Harry was going to go to Draco's office tomorrow to ask him out on a date, and Harry was going to try his damnedest to convince Draco to say yes.
The door to Draco's office was open, so Harry strode right in without knocking. Draco was at his desk, a pair of thin wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he read a sheet of parchment. Harry paused in shock and overwhelming arousal.
Draco looked up in surprise, eyes widening behind his spectacles when he saw who it was. "Harry."
"Hello, Draco," Harry finally managed to get out after a moment of silence. He had remembered to change out of his Auror uniform this time, and he was wearing some of the new clothing that Lily had helped him choose. Draco's eyes slid over his form in what looked like appreciation. Harry's insides did a little dance of pleasure.
"What can I do for you?" Draco asked politely, clearly trying to mask how much Harry's sudden appearance had thrown him off balance.
Harry drew himself up, remembering his mission and trying not to let himself be derailed by Draco's unfairly attractive eyewear. "I've told Ron and Hermione about us, so I'm here to ask you on a date."
Draco's mouth dropped open. A deliciously pink circle of surprise that made Harry want to thread his fingers through Draco's hair and urge him to his knees. He shook the filthy thoughts away as Draco sputtered out, "Us?"
"Yes. I told them about our past, and that I'd like us to have a future."
"You did?" Draco seemed to be having difficulty wrapping his mind around Harry's confession.
"I told you I would, Draco. I'm not playing around. There's something here between us, don't you feel it?"
"I—" Draco faltered as he pushed his glasses up and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. It was such an unconsciously charming gesture, calling attention to the fact that Draco must have worn glasses for a while. "It's been over twenty years, Harry. Why are you adamant that we date? It didn't work the first time around, what makes you think that this will be any different?"
"Because we're different. I don't want the same things I did when I was a kid, and neither do you. There's no reason for either of us to play by anybody else's rules any more. I regret not telling you how I felt the first time around. I'm not making the same mistake twice."
"Oh," Draco breathed, his eyes as round as Quaffles. Beneath his shirt, Harry could see the rapid movement of his chest and the flush creeping up from under his collar, telling Harry that he wasn't unaffected.
"Is that good enough to earn me a date?"
Draco's cheeks coloured, and Harry could tell he was flustered. "I, uh, yes, I suppose it is."
Harry's grin was triumphant. "Excellent. This Friday. At seven. We can meet at Grimmauld Place and Apparate together."
"I—alright." Draco paused before adding, "I'm looking forward to it."
"So am I." Harry turned to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome, and desperately wanting to make it out of Draco's eyesight so he could dance a little victory jig, and then head home so he could have a victory wank. He paused at the door, turning to look back at Draco, who was staring after Harry with a small smile on his face.
"Oh, and Draco?"
"I really like the glasses."