written for hogwarts
careers advice, task #1: write about a protector
word count: 2882
other prompts at bottom
Harry was barely eleven years old, and Draco Malfoy was already becoming the center of his world. It was bound to happen, meeting someone so captivating and self-assured after years of loneliness. Draco was like a living, breathing dream come true.
"...Of course, we'll all be in Slytherin," Draco said, gesturing to his other friends and passing Harry another piece of chocolate. "I hope you will be too. It's the best house; everyone knows that."
Harry frowned, wadding up the foil wrapping into a little ball and trying not to look at Blaise or Pansy. Apparently they were childhood friends of Draco's, and they were awfully intimidating.
"But what if I'm not in Slytherin?" he asked, recalling all the dark mutterings he'd heard about Slytherin before. "We'll still be friends, right?"
"Well, yeah," Draco said, a little scoff in his reply as though it was absurd to think anything else. "You're my friend. I'm not going to let anyone steal you from me. As if someone like Weasley would know how to treat Harry Potter."
Harry cocked his head to the side, pushing his glasses up a little. The possessive way Draco talked reminded him a little uncomfortably of Dudley, but somehow, he didn't mind it so much coming from Draco. Draco didn't want to hurt him, he was sure. He just didn't know the right way to help.
"I mean, I don't think I need to be treated some special way," he said, biting his lip. "I'm just a normal kid."
"No, you're not!" Draco exclaimed, looking horrified that he would even say that. "You're only the most important wizard of our generation." He paused, thinking about what he'd just said, and then hastily added, "I'm quite high up there too, of course. The Malfoy name is very important."
"Calm down, Draco," Blaise said quietly, expression suggesting that he was thoroughly bored with the whole situation. "Don't strain yourself." At this, Blaise smirked just a little.
"I'm fine," he insisted, face going pink. "I just think...I mean...Harry's famous."
"So what?" Harry asked, crossing his arms defensively. "I don't like people treating me all weird because of it."
"But why wouldn't you want the attention, people treating you like a hero? It's just what you deserve."
Harry frowned. It was easy to tell that Draco liked being treated as though he was important, and loved any kind of attention, but Harry wasn't used to anyone giving him the time of day at all. Besides, he wouldn't want to treat other people as lesser than himself.
"I'm not special or anything," he said, curling in on himself a little. "I just want people to like me for me, not because I'm a celebrity. I'm...just Harry."
"So...you don't want me to care about you being famous?"
"Exactly. I don't care about politics or my reputation or anything. I just want to be regular friends."
Draco sighed, but there was a tiny, pleased smile tugging at his lips.
"You'll have to be careful with that attitude, Potter. There's plenty of people who'd love to take advantage of you. I suppose that makes it my job to protect you."
Pansy laughed, pretending to swoon.
"Wow, Draco, I wish you'd talk to me that way," she cooed, eyes wide. Draco aimed a kick at her shins, face reddening again.
"Shut up, Pansy. You've never needed protecting."
Harry winced slightly, and wondered whether he should tell Draco that that was a mean thing to say, but then Pansy just blew a kiss in their direction, looking satisfied.
"Of course I haven't. I'm far too clever for that."
It was nice having friends, even if they didn't always seem to know how to be kind. They could learn together.
Harry was practically shaking by the time they were lining up for the Sorting, reminding himself over and over again of Draco's description. The hat was just going to decide where he fit best. But what if it all turned out to be a big mistake and Harry didn't belong anywhere at all? Or what if he didn't wind up in Slytherin with Draco and the others, and they decided not to be friends with him after all?
He was jolted out of his thoughts by the feeling of Draco brushing up against his side, and Harry glanced over, meeting sharp gray eyes.
"Are you scared or something?" Draco asked, lip curling and voice just a bit more scornful than Harry would like.
"Yeah, a little, I guess," he muttered, shrugging.
"Oh." Draco's eyes softened, and once again, he went back to looking like a kid instead of a miniature adult. "Well, that's okay. Being Sorted isn't bad at all; my mum promised. But I'll make extra sure you're okay anyway." He was barely finished speaking before Harry felt the warmth of soft fingers joining with his own. Harry offered a smile, and Draco returned it, shifting so that the sleeves of their robes hid their hands from view.
Students started being called up, one by one, and each successful Sorting tied Harry's stomach into tighter knots. He squeezed Draco's hand, taking a deep breath.
"If you don't get Slytherin, I promise I'll figure out how to sneak into your dorm tonight," Draco whispered, and the pressure in Harry's chest lessened.
When he was put in Slytherin, the Great Hall went dead silent, and Harry feared he'd done something wrong. But then Draco and Pansy started cheering, as loud as they could, and even Blaise joined in a little. Within moments, the entire Slytherin table was applauding for him, and Harry felt warmth blooming in his chest as he hurried over. He had somewhere he belonged.
It only took a few months to make Harry completely sure of the fact that Draco was his best friend. They were inseparable.
Quietly, not wanting to wake his other roommates, Harry slid out of bed, taking the couple of steps to crawl in with Draco instead, drawing the curtains and cuddling close to the other boy.
"Hey," Draco mumbled, voice heavy with sleep. "Nightmares again? Need me to fight them off?"
Harry laughed softly, nodding and wrapping an arm tight around Draco, moving his other hand up to run his fingers through white-blonde hair.
"Yeah, a little," he admitted. "It's alright, though. I already feel a little better just being with you."
"Good. I need my beauty sleep." Draco looked at Harry for a few minutes longer, then closed his eyes again. "...Tell me if you need something, though."
"Okay, I will," Harry said, pulling the covers up over them a bit more. "Goodnight, Draco."
"Goodnight, Harry."
It took Harry awhile to fall asleep again, despite being comforted by his friend's presence. After Draco drifted off, Harry heard him talking in his sleep. Most of it was nonsense, but one phrase he kept repeating was 'my Harry.' Heart warm, Harry dozed off with a smile on his face.
By the time Harry was fourteen, he could hardly remember what his life had been like without Draco in it.
"I can't believe you actually cursed her."
"I know, right?" Draco replied, grinning. "I'm awesome."
"I mean, I don't really think you needed to," Harry said, dropping his bag on the floor and flopping down onto Draco's bed. "She was just asking me to the Ball."
"She was being awfully pushy about it. I didn't like her attitude. And besides, we already decided to go together."
Harry sighed, tugging Draco down onto the bed as well and moving to sprawl half on top of him.
"Well, I wouldn't have said yes to her. I don't even know her. I just don't think you had to be so aggressive about it."
Draco wilted, and Harry immediately felt bad, but he didn't have a chance to say anything more.
"I was protecting you," Draco said. "I didn't want her to try anything. It's..." He paused, seeming to struggle for words, and then reverted back to a comment more characteristic of first year. "You're mine."
"Yeah, we protect each other," Harry agreed softly. "You do a good job of it." Of course, Harry was the one who always seemed to be charging into danger, but Draco was almost always by his side, and did an excellent job of protecting him from other things. The Dursleys, nightmares, mean comments or pranks from other students...Draco never let any of it touch him.
"So you're not upset about it?" Draco asked, voice unsteady.
"No, I'm not," Harry replied, pressing a bit closer to him as though to prove it. "I like how protective you are of me."
"You're always looking out for other people, being the big hero," Draco said with a shrug. "Someone has to look out for you too."
"Sap," he murmured fondly. Draco blushed, looking away in that manner that had become so familiar to him over the years. There weren't many people who could get Draco flustered like that. Most of the time, he masked it with melodrama and all the old habits his father had taught him.
"Am not."
"Oh? I think so." Harry smirked, thoughtlessly reaching down to grab Draco's hand.
"Mm, well, in any case, you'd better not tell anyone. I need to protect my reputation." Draco gave his hand a little squeeze, and when Harry glanced at him again, he saw that he was smiling.
"I don't mind. I like having this part of you all to myself."
"You have quite the possessive streak, you know. Luckily for you, I love you anyway," Draco said.
"Look who's talking," Harry retorted, scoffing. "Love you too."
When he was fifteen, with the war intensifying and danger feeling more and more present, Harry knew he couldn't live without Draco.
He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, lingering at the empty top of the Astronomy Tower and watching the clouds of his breath in the winter air. Harry leaned against the railing, running a hand through his hair. How was he supposed to get through this without any more people he loved getting hurt? Lost in thought, he didn't even hear the sound of footsteps on the stone floor. Harry only realized Draco had joined him when he felt an arm wrap around his waist.
"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked, shivering and casting a warming charm over the both of them.
"You."
"Oh, well, of course," Draco hummed, preening at the attention. "Why wouldn't you be? Really, though, what's bugging you?"
"I haven't been doing enough to protect you from all this. I mean, your father..."
"Made his own choices, and deserves to be locked up right where he is," Draco finished, voice firm. "Don't even try to apologize to me for the fact that he's in Azkaban, Harry. I know he loves me, but he's not a good person, and nothing you could've done would have changed that."
"There's so many people that could target you for being his son...for being my friend...I'm terrified that you're going to get hurt and I won't be able to stop it."
"You're an idiot," Draco muttered, tugging him into a proper hug. "Sometimes I really think you ought to have been in Gryffindor, with that awful hero complex of yours. Though, I think you might have wound up dead already if you were."
Harry snorted quietly, holding onto him tighter.
"And what would you do, not sharing a bed with me almost every night?"
"I'm sure I'd live," Draco said before pulling back just enough to look at him properly. "But really, Harry, you don't need to worry about...saving me. I'm going to be by your side, fighting with you because I want to. I know the risks. And besides, I want to protect you as much as I can too, and I've done a pretty decent job of it over the years. I'm not some damsel in distress."
"Yeah, okay," Harry muttered around a sigh, relaxing into the familiar sensation of Draco's magic surrounding him, warming his chilled body. "Just...you have to be okay at the end of all this. You have to survive, and be happy."
"We both have to survive," Draco said, sounding harsher than Harry had ever heard him when talking to him. Draco was, quite frankly, a nasty little prat with most people, but he'd always been softer with Harry, ever since the first time they met. He'd said once that he saw Harry and instinctively knew that he needed him, that they needed each other. "Don't you dare talk like that, Potter. We're going to have such an amazing life together once we get through all this, and I don't want to live in any world where that doesn't happen."
When Harry dared to meet his gaze, he saw that Draco's eyes were shining with unshed tears.
"We're going to be okay," Draco whispered, offering a halfhearted grin. "This is really hard for me to pull off, you know. You're supposed to be the optimist here. But I'm trying. We're going to be okay, Harry."
It was a near-universally accepted fact that the Malfoys, including Draco, were a family of opportunists and cowards, but at moments like this, Harry felt sure that Draco was even braver than himself.
"And you're still going to be just as cuddly and high-maintenance when we're ancient?" Harry joked, smoothing a thumb over Draco's cheekbone.
"You know it."
"Good. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Looking at Draco like that, hair coming unstyled and falling into his eyes, hands trembling just a little, Harry's heart ached. They'd been this close plenty of times. They'd always been a little more affectionate than most best friends.
He leaned in, eyes closing. Harry was so close that he could feel Draco's breath against his skin. Their lips were just about to touch when they were interrupted by the sound of laughter. A Gryffindor couple bounded out onto the tower, hands all over each other and seemingly oblivious to the fact that they weren't alone. Harry sighed, opening his eyes fully and pulling away, grasping Draco's hand instead.
"Let's go back inside."
"Yeah, let's."
When Harry was seventeen, he thought for a few minutes that he really did die for Draco.
He heard Draco screaming his name, and then, afterwards, when he had to keep up the ruse, saw him fighting Pansy and Blaise's grips on him, yelling every obscenity he could think of and begging for someone to just kill him too.
Harry knew how much Draco had always liked the idea of protecting the protector, but dying to save Draco? To make it so that Voldemort couldn't hurt him? It was a no-brainer, and he didn't regret it for a moment. It was okay to let Draco be the hero sometimes, but when it was really dangerous, there was nothing Harry wouldn't do to keep him safe.
He was glad he hadn't really had to die, though.
When Harry woke up in the hospital wing after collapsing from pure exhaustion, it was to the sight of Draco curled up to him in his hospital bed, hand resting on his chest to feel his heartbeat.
"You absolute bastard," Draco breathed the moment he realized he was awake. "Don't you ever do that again. I thought I lost you. I really thought...fuck..." His voice cracked, and just like that, the dam burst. Harry had seen Draco cry before, of course. They'd been friends since they were eleven. But Draco had always tried to maintain some semblance of control. He didn't let go completely.
That wasn't the case now. Draco was outright sobbing into the crook of Harry's neck, hugging him so tight it felt like he might leave bruises.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Harry mumbled, still groggy. "I'm sorry. I'm okay. I'm sorry. It's all going to be okay now."
"I couldn't protect you," Draco gasped out, voice shaky. "I never could protect you from that. From him. I knew that, and...maybe that's why I always tried so hard to protect you from everything else, because I knew I couldn't do anything about the really bad stuff. Well, part of it was just wanting you for myself, too, but...I'm no good at the Gryffindor heroics. I couldn't keep you safe the way I wanted to."
"Nobody could, Draco. I had to do what I did, but it's over now. I'm all yours, and we're safe. You can protect me from all the fans," Harry drawled, trying to lighten the mood a little with his last comment.
A choked laugh fought its way out of Draco's throat, and he pulled away a little, sniffling and wiping his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm sure you'd like that, me doing all the politics for you. You really are dreadful at that kind of thing."
"What can I say? I need you. You're my best friend, and I love you more than anyone else, and you're good at all the things I'm bad at."
"That's right," Draco said, slowly regaining his composure. "You'd be lost without me."
Harry tugged him into a kiss that they should have shared years ago, and all he could think of was that it felt like coming home.
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