You Could Be Happy

You Could Be Happy: A Draco and Harry Fic
Beta’d wonderfully by Stephen. Thank you!!!

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. Glancing at his wristwatch (he still wore the one Mrs.Weasley had given him on his seventeenth birthday), he realised with a jolt it was well past twelve in the morn. He had unconsciously put in another eighteen hour shift. For the whole month, Harry had been arriving early in the morning and staying late at his job at the Ministry of Magic. Harry worked as an Auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as the one of the heads of an elite squad known as the Volatilis Animus. They specialised in particularly dangerous wizards, and at the moment were rounding up Death Eaters and Voldemort supporters in hiding. At first the job had been glamorous, but now it just frayed down his already worn nerves.

“Potter? Are you still here?”


Harry glanced up from his desk toward the door where he saw his boss, Kingsley Shacklebolt, standing with an amused look on his dark face. After the defeat of Voldemort they had named him temporary Minister for Magic, but after seeing what an outstanding job he had been doing to help the wizarding world regroup and recuperate, they unanimously agreed to assigned him to the post permanently.
“Sorry, Kingsley” he said with a sheepish smile. “It’s just that I think I’m getting a good lead on Nott’s location.”

Kingsley chuckled, his golden hoop earring twinkling in the lamplight. “I don’t doubt that you do, but you’ll be the death of yourself pulling these hours. Go home Potter. I don’t want to see you until noon tomorrow. I’m sure your partner Griffin can pick up your slack.”

With one last smile, Kingsley left. Harry let out a sigh as he stood up and bent his back, feeling bones crack in a satisfying manner. Not even bothering to clear his desk, he pulled his wand down from his wrist holder and began extinguishing the lamps as he made his way to the lifts.
It was only when he was alone in the dead of night that he allowed himself to contemplate the alternative reason he put in so many hours. He was doing his best to avoid the flat he shared with Ginny. It had taken four years for normalcy to return to the wizarding world, and when it did they had quickly picked up their relationship where they left off. They were inseparable. It seemed like every time you picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet, some picture of him and Ginny kissing, or shopping, or simply holding hands made it somewhere on the front page. But Ginny took it all in a stride, and they grew stronger. Not to mention that their sex life was far from lacking. Ginny was always in the mood whether they be at their flat, Diagon Alley, or even the Burrow, and Harry had been more than happy to oblige her.

So finally, after one spectacular year, he took her out to dinner at their favourite restaurant, The Dragon’s Lair, and proposed. Ginny, who normally didn’t cry, gave him a weepy yes. And even though they were extremely cock-a-hoop about the engagement, they wanted to wait a couple of years before tying the knot. After all Harry was only twenty-two, and Ginny twenty- one. Ginny was very adamant about having her own separate life before wedding and essentially living one. Besides, she wanted to wait for a promotion at her job at Malkin’s Hospital for Natural Birth and Children Cares as a birthing aid.

But it had been three years now, and the idea of marriage and bonding didn’t fill Harry with the same conviction as it used to. It wasn’t that he didn’t still love Ginny fiercely, but lately Harry wasn’t as content as he was when he was twenty-two. For one thing, Ginny seemed to be nagging more than ever. Everything Harry said or did caused her to spit her dummy, and while the make-up sex was great, it wasn’t enough anymore. Also, Ginny seemed to be distant and never in the mood for sex. While Harry was letting himself get lost in his thoughts, his feet had already led him to the Floo station. After tossing a handful of powder into the flames, he stepped in and called out “Number 3 St. Peter’s,” while fervently hoping Ginny was already asleep.


About a hundred miles away, one Draco Malfoy was brooding in the vast library of Malfoy Manor. Normally asleep at this hour, he now sat gazing into the fireplace, a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky in his hand. He pushed his fringe out of his eyes and took a long pull on the bottle. He had finally accepted defeat. He would have to call on outside help. He didn’t just have his own safety to worry about. It was mainly for his mother.
Narcissa Malfoy’s psyche was crumbling slowly. After the war against the Dark Lord had come to an end, the Malfoys were ruthlessly investigated by Aurors. They were only left alone after Potter had testified that if it weren’t for Narcissa, he would have been killed, and that Draco hadn’t killed or tortured for Voldemort, nor did he perform any Unforgivable Curses of his own will. They were finally left alone and retreated to the Manor. But even there they were assaulted with curses and Howlers until Lucius was forced to set up powerful wards. But the incident that caused Narcissa to lose her connection with reality had been when Lucius went missing. Lucius had left the Manor to visit their solicitor over an issue in the Malfoy fortune, but hadn’t returned home. A week later, a package had managed to make its way through the wards, and when Narcissa opened it she was greeted by her husband’s blank grey eyes, gazing up at her from his severed head.

Narcissa had begun screaming, and when Draco ran into the room to figure out what was wrong, she didn’t tell him, just continued to scream. Draco noticed the box and ran over and looked inside. When he saw his father’s head he had to choke back his bile. He wanted to look away but couldn’t. But realising his mother needed help; he managed to tear his gaze away from the horrible sight. He grabbed a still screaming Narcissa and dragged her to the fireplace where he Flooed them to St. Mungo’s.

After a week of intensive care, the Healers declared Narcissa insane. So Draco had hidden her away from prying eyes in the Manor, hoping that whoever had killed his father would leave them be, and for a while they did. But a month later, Draco began receiving letters in the mail threatening him and his mother. Some were written in what looked like blood, and one had tried to curse him. He suspected that they were being harassed by a Death Eater in hiding who was angry the Malfoys’ seemingly betrayed their Lord in the end. Because of this belief, Malfoy thought he could handle it himself; he answered all the owl post and kept Narcissa from leaving the grounds.

But today Narcissa had felt up to walking around and got lost in the attic. Draco had been frantic with the thought that their enemy had finally gotten her when he heard her singing about cobwebs and spiders. He had almost been sick with relief. After that, he decided he couldn’t protect them alone. Draco stood up, the Firewhisky still clutched in his hand. He had made up his mind. He would contact Harry Potter tomorrow morning.

Rate and Review!! No flames Please. Story will have a plot and a lot of sexual tension.