Happy New Year

Happy New Year (Drarry Ficworthy)

Art: @Cremebunny

Fic: @Drarry-Obsessed

Word Count: 1908

Maturity: SFW

A/N: This is the third in my Ficworthy series, and just happens to be yet ANOTHER @Cremebunny. Hah. Methinks I have a bit of an obsession outside Drarry. NOOO! MY OBSESSION IS STRAYING!... Someone QUICK, shove some yummy Gryff/Slyth Smut in my face!!!...Ok now that that is over…forgive me. I’ve been putting quite a few hours in at work and working a trip holiday is rather taxing…plus keeping up with my 3 kiddos…a household, taxes, bills, etc…I’m just a little loopy. This may be uploaded late (late as in not exactly at Midnight {Mountain Standard Time}) but let’s pretend it’s still New Year’s Eve and not New Year’s Day. I’m also attempting to submit this in the @Drarry-Love Very Drarry Holiday contest as a stand alone ficlet (Sorry, Crème! I cannot upload with your art in that forum, but anyone remotely CLUELESS has heard of you and has seen your art, so I doubt the sleight will go against your exceedingly exponential exposure. Yay for alliteration, no?) Shall we? Let’s begin. (Bolded words are prompts from the contest, jsyk)

 

 The day was bitterly cold, and the rapidly approaching night promised to be increasingly so. Snow flurried around, the wind playing with the flakes, tossing them up, then down, then around and around until even the most trained Seeker’s eye could scarcely follow a single puff of ice. The grounds of Hogwarts was covered with the stuff! A foot thick in the most shallowest of places, over six feet amongst the drifts. In an unsurprising feat of magic, the Pitch was flake free except for in the air. Not a single patch of snow could be seen gracing the green grass or the wooden planks of the stands. It was in those stands that two unlikely former-pupils of the magical institution sat, huddled together under a nondescript blanket. They had done away with their house rivalries after the war, a year hence. The blanket itself was thick and warm, charmed to keep the wearer, or in this case, wearers, warm despite the frigid temperatures.

 “Do you remember our first match?” a shaggy haired brunette asked softly, the air clouding with his breath.

 “I do. You broke your arm, as I recall. And that insufferable Lockhart actually vanished the bones entirely! I was in stitches over it for weeks.” The blonde replied, chuckling. The chuckle wasn’t full of malice, nor was it cruel. It simply held amusement at the recollection.

 “Yeah. He was a right prat, wasn’t he? But it was Dobby that charmed the bludger to chase me. At first I thought it was you who tampered with it.” Harry Potter said, sliding a sly glance to Draco Malfoy.

 “If I had tampered with it, you wouldn’t have broken an arm. It would have knocked you clean off your broom!” Draco boasted, gesturing with his hand under the blanket.

 The banter was light-hearted, despite their rather turbulent past. The war was over. There was no threat of Voldemort waiting in the wings, no Death Eaters to round up and punish. The trials were long since over, and the blonde was free to sit next to the Boy Who Lived without fear of reprimanding. It was a shocking move to all who knew, or thought they knew, the two young men. For so long there was nothing but mutual animosity. Ill-will and bad blood. For them to sit next to each other, sharing a blanket, and watching a ceremonial Christmas Day Quidditch match without drawing wands, was a monumental occurrence. But the two hardly saw it that way. They had survived a brutal and bloody war. Each saving the life of the other, each owing so much to the other, that a friendship couldn’t be kept from between them no matter the means that accomplished the end of the war.

 “You think so, hmm? Maybe then, but not now. You’ve changed, Malfoy. Anyone with two eyes could see it. It’s a pity you weren’t like this when we were in school. We could have been proper friends, not rivals.” Harry replied, tilting his head and squinting into the distance, the match forgotten.

 “Even if we were friends, we’d still be rivals. There’s something about us together that makes us want, no need, to best the other. Even now.” Draco parried, elbowing the brunette gently. Harry didn’t respond, but merely smiled, still staring off into the distance. The flush of his face could have easily been attributed to the cold, if not for the warmth his cheeks radiated.

 “Even now.” Harry repeated. He was silent a while, thinking over his next statement with care. The tentative friendship that developed over the last year was not exactly fragile, but Harry didn’t want to disrupt it needlessly.

 “Malfoy…it’s New Year’s in a few days.” He started, looking everywhere but the grey eyes that turned to gaze in his direction.

 “Yes.” Was the short reply. Merlin, the blonde prat wasn’t going to make this easy for him, was he?

 “Well…seeing as it’s no fun celebrating alone, would you…I dunno…join me at the Three Broomsticks?” Harry tried very, very hard to appear nonchalant. Judging by the perked brow, he assumed he wasn’t. But instead of leaping on that burst of vulnerability, Draco graciously let it slide.

 “That’s acceptable, Potter. I have no other plans…and well…I’ve come to appreciate your company.” Draco said, his own nonchalance entirely believable. Harry broke out into a wide smile

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tinsel and silver bells graced every edged surface in the Three Broomsticks. Flanking the doors were glittering sculptures of ice depicting three crossed brooms, left, right and center. Magic, of course, kept the ice from melting. Between the two sculptures strode in Harry and Draco, shaking the snow from their hair and jackets. The air inside was warm and heavy with the scent of mulled cider, sugar cookies, steamed milk and other cold-weather comforts. They both glanced around for a table and Harry saw one first, in the very back; a circular booth inhabited by none. Harry took Draco’s sleeve and pulled him through the throng that packed the floor. The first New Year’s after the war’s end was surely to be one to remember. Everyone had turned out:

Professor McGonagall sat with Poppy Pomfrey and Pamona Sprout, each sipping a violently yellow concoction that steamed in lazy curlicues. Two tables over sat Slughorn and Professor Sinistra, absorbed in an intense conversation that the crowd drowned out. Various other tables were packed with of-age students and recently graduated alumni. Harry could spot Dean, Seamus, the Patil Twins, Michael Corner, Hannah Abbot, Luna, among many others. Nowhere could a Weasley be spotted, however, the family taking a much needed and very long vacation away from England. Harry didn’t begrudge them this. They needed time to heal, as they all did in their own way. The two boys slid into the booth without ordering.

“I…I’m not sure this was such a good idea.” Draco started, staring around at all the patrons. He still had trouble being in large crowds, especially crowds comprised of those on the opposite side of the war, with no clear means of escape. Harry threw an arm around the blonde’s shoulders, leaning into him.

“Relax. I’m right here, and everyone knows we’ve been friendly. Nobody will bother you here. Just like up at the school.” Harry murmured into Draco’s ear. His breath tickled and warmed the former Slytherin’s ear. A shiver raced down his spine and Harry pulled back.

“Sorry…”

“It’s fine, Potter. I suppose I’m a tad on edge.” Draco said, waving a pale hand to dismiss the lapse in control. Their growing closeness over the last year had been gradual, and Draco had a sneaking suspicion that it could get much, much closer if certain precautions weren’t kept.

“Relax. Enjoy the night.” Harry repeated and raised his free hand to signal the over-taxed Madam Rosmerta. He mouthed ‘Firewisky’ and held up two fingers. She nodded and bustled away.

“If you still feel overwhelmed after the countdown, we can leave and go somewhere quieter.” Harry offered, giving Draco a crooked smile.

“By my count, it’s fifteen minutes away. I could be hexed six ways to Sunday by then, Potter.” Draco snapped, and immediately felt sorry. Keeping their friendship platonic shouldn’t be a result in returning to their former animosity. Harry merely blinked over at him, unfazed by the slender man’s outburst.

“I’ll…try. Alright? Currently, I’m Persona Non Grata to just about everyone in here barring you. Hexing isn’t out of the question.” Draco grumbled, face flushing a delicate rose.

“And if they even try, they will be face to face with my wand. I won’t let them hurt you because you made some wrong choices. I have forgiven you. They will too. And most have. Nobody has even glanced at us since we arrived.” Harry pointed out and Draco could only agree. Nobody was paying them much mind. And even the Madam had sent them their Firewisky without balking, despite Draco having Imperiused her two years prior.

 “Alright…alright.” Draco capitulated. Silence stretched between them. Harry was loathed to break it but he felt that once he got Draco talking about other things, he’d loosen up. He raised his glass and toasted to Draco.

 “Here’s to a new year, new friendships, and a new lease on life.” Harry intoned, wincing slightly at the corniness of his words. It elicited a rolling laugh from the blonde, however, and so he felt marginally better about his choice in toast.

 “Like you could do better. Go on then.” Harry taunted softly, glaring.

 “Here’s to The Boy Who Lived, And Died, So We All Might Live.” Draco replied, turning to look directly over at the brunette with a raise of his own glass. Harry stared in shock at the grey eyed aristocrat.

 “You’re toasting to me?” Harry sputtered. He watched in quiet fascination as Draco’s normally pale visage slowly tinted red across the nose, then down his cheeks to blossom into delicate rosebuds. Harry felt his own cheeks heating and he found that he couldn’t look away. Their gazes never waivered for a whole minute and something shifted between them. Draco silently cursed his inability to keep himself at arm’s length. Perhaps it was his limited interaction with anyone besides his family and Potter. Perhaps it was the seven long years of repressed need to be noticed and accepted by the brunette. Or perhaps it was simply the fact that Harry was a damned decent bloke and he liked him.

 “Yes. You.” Draco whispered through numbed lips.

 Harry watched those lips form the two short words, his green eyes flicking down from Draco’s to his lips, and back. The distance between the two slowly closed and it was just random timing that right before their lips met, the crowd started chanting the countdown. They jolted away and looked up, seeing the expanse of bodies all yelling as one.

“10!”

“9!”

The two faced each other again, both sets of eyes wide and glistening.

“8!”

“Harry…” Draco whispered, leaving the word a silent question. He knew the tradition. He also knew Harry knew.

“7!”

“6!”

“5!”

“Yes.” Harry murmured, tightening his hold on Draco’s shoulders.

“4!”

“3!”

“2!”

“1!”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” the entire crowd screamed, sans two.

Their mouths were otherwise occupied.

 

~Finite~

Happy New Year! Xo

-DO