A Gradual Process
Title: A Gradual Process
Author: elleian
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Unless otherwise stated, everything is owned by JK Rowling, Warner Brothers, etc. I do not make any money from this and I have no intent to infringe anyone’s copyright.
Summary: Draco didn't just fall in love with Harry at the drop of a hat. No, it was a process that took a long time to happen.
Draco did not know the exact moment that he had fallen in love with Harry Potter. Thinking about it, he realised that it had not happened at a single point in time. No, it had been a gradual process, one that had been sneakily happening for a long time. By the time that he eventually discovered what was going on, it was too late to stop it, but he wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. Falling in love with Harry was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
He thought back to the beginning of his relationship with Harry. Of course, it had not started well, as had generally been the case with all things that involved both him and The Boy Who Lived. Being forced to work together by Dumbledore had not been high on either of their priority lists, and they had spent every spare minute that they had either fighting with each other or plotting to. To say that they had a rivalry going on would have been an understatement.
One day, though, it all changed. They had arrived back from a mission where they had been forced to watch a house for Death Eater comings and goings. They had been stuck behind a hedge for at least six hours, and it had soon become apparent that the Death Eaters were not going to show up. By the time that they returned to Grimmauld Place, they were both cold, tired and irritated. Neither of them had been pleased, then, to discover upon their arrival Ron and Hermione sprawled across the kitchen table, trying to suck each other’s faces off. The couple had not seemed to mind that they had an audience, however, and Draco and Harry had quickly left the room.
At that point in time, Draco wanted nothing more but to wash his eyeballs with bleach and to get as far away from that house as possible. Circumstances being what they were, this was impossible. Somebody had made a massive oversight when they had allocated rooms in the house, and they had been informed before they had left on their mission that they were to share a room. Draco had conveniently forgotten about this, until now.
Perhaps a little background information would be useful at this point. It was now a year since Harry and Draco’s year had left Hogwarts. Everybody had expected the final showdown between Harry and Voldemort to occur during Harry’s seventh year at school, but it was not to be. With the imprisonment of his father and disappearance of his mother, Draco found he had to choose between serving Voldemort or turning to the Order for help. He had chosen the latter, and had been accepted into their ranks, thought not without much difficulty at first.
All of the members of the Order were residing at Grimmauld Place. The last members had moved in that day, which led to the current situation. Somebody - Dumbledore, most probably, Draco thought - had decided that it would be perfectly suitable for Harry and Draco to be assigned a room together. Neither of the men were pleased.
Draco had followed Harry through the house to the room that they had been given. Upon entering, both men saw with horror that the tiny room was furnished with one double bed and nothing more. It was a small double bed at that. They had looked at each other, and for a moment their thoughts had been perfectly in synch. ‘Oh no, this can’t be happening. I can’t share a bed with him!’ But they had no choice.
They had spent the next ten minutes arguing. Both had been adamant that they did not want to sleep in the same bed, but both had been equally resolute that they were not going to sleep on the floor. In the end, Harry had held up his hands. He told Draco that he was going to sleep in the bed, and that whether or not Draco was going to sleep in the bed with him was his choice. Whilst Draco stared at him, Harry quickly divested himself of his clothes so that he was left wearing only his boxers, and he then climbed into the bed.
Draco did not know what to do. He certainly did not want to sleep on the floor, that was for sure. There was barely any space in the tiny room which seemed to resemble little more than a three metre square box. He dreaded to think what was on the floor, or even under the bed.
He had looked at Harry, lying on his side at one edge of the bed, had looked at the floor, then back to the bed again. Sighing, he had removed his clothes in a similar fashion to Harry and had gingerly slipped into the other side of the bed. Harry gave no indication that he had noticed the other man’s presence, and Draco relaxed when he realised that Harry was not going to try to hex him or push him out of the bed. He didn’t know how he managed it, but he managed to drift off to sleep.
When Draco had woken up a few hours later, the first thing that he noticed was that he was in a strange room. He had been staying in Grimmauld Place for some time, but this was not the same room that he normally slept in. The next thing that he noticed was that a warm body appeared to be pressed to his front. Or rather, he was pressed to somebody’s back.
With a start, his memory came back to him. Oh Merlin, he was sharing a bed with Harry Potter! That must mean that the person he was pressing himself against was the Golden Boy himself. Draco was sure that he should feel sick, or at least mildly disgusted. But he was shocked to discover that this actually felt quite nice. The heat from Harry’s body seemed to be permeating into his own skin, and he had no immediate desire to remove himself from his current position.
Closing his eyes once more, Draco listened to the steady breathing coming from his bed mate. He could feel the steady beating of Harry’s heart from where his arm was draped across Harry’s chest. Draco did not want to think about why his body had decided that this would be a good way to sleep, or what Harry would think when he woke up. Right now, he felt more safe and content than he had done in a long time.
‘Its funny,’ he mused. ‘If I had been in this position a few years ago, I would have been trying to hex him into oblivion.’ Draco discovered that hexing Harry was the last thing he wanted to do. This was still slightly shocking. Despite having to work together, their enmity had not gone away. Many days Draco felt like just firing a load of hexes at the other man because he was annoying him so much. But now, with Harry completely vulnerable and unable to defend himself, Draco did not feel any compulsion to try to hurt Harry. Instead, he felt oddly protective of the man whom he was curled around.
The last thoughts that were in Draco’s mind when he drifted back into sleep were, ‘I could get used to this.’
When Draco had awoken the following morning, he discovered that he was in a different position yet again. His arm was still wrapped around Harry’s waist, but Harry was now on his side facing Draco, his own arm over Draco’s middle and his head so close to Draco’s that they were almost touching. When Draco blinked, trying to focus his eyes, he saw Harry’s eyes open too. “I thought you were going to sleep all day,” Harry said.
Draco gaped at him for a while. In all honesty, he had been expecting Harry to start yelling at him or hexing him. They were, after all, in quite a compromising situation. Despite both of them still having their boxers on, there was very little separating either of them. Add to that the fact that they had arms draped across each other, and Draco was very sure that he should be in an immense deal of pain by now. “Um,” he said, not quite sure what else to say.
“Do you think that Dumbledore planned this?” Harry asked Draco after a minute.
“What?” Draco didn’t understand.
“This,” Harry said gesturing at himself and Draco. When Draco whimpered at the loss of heat as Harry moved his arm, Harry chuckled and replaced it on Draco’s waist.
“Probably,” Draco said, realising what Harry meant. Dumbledore could be a sly old bastard at times. He had probably made sure that there was a double bed in the room in the hope that he and Harry would be forced to get close to each other.
“So,” said Harry. “What are we going to do now?”
Draco contemplated for a moment. He could get out of bed, tell Harry that it had all been a mistake, and they could both get on with our lives. Draco was aware that this was the option he would probably be expected to take, however, for some reason it didn’t feel like the right thing to do. So he did the only other thing possible. He moved his head forward by just the few centimetres needed, and kissed Harry.
When they parted, Harry’s face split into a grin and Draco’s did the same. “You know, I’m still going to fight with you all the time if we go out,” Draco said.
Harry shrugged. “True, but I’m used to that by now.”
Draco shifted and hugged Harry tighter than he had been before. “So does this mean that we are a couple now?” he asked.
“Yep,” said Harry. “I must admit I’d been wondering if you were going to make a move on me.” Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “It was because of something Hermione said,” Harry told him. “She mentioned something about people fighting when they liked each other as a way of trying to hide their feelings. When I thought about it, I realised that she might be right. I had constantly followed you around during school, after all.”
Draco contemplated this. “Maybe,” he said eventually. “Though I have really wanted to hex you something rotten in quite a few situations.”
“I think I can safely say that the feeling has been mutual,” Harry laughed. “You can be so aggravating at times.”
“Mmm,” Draco agreed, “but you have to admit that I’m pretty good at it.”
This made Harry laugh even more, and Draco shut him up the only way he knew how; by kissing him.
That had been over two years ago now. They had shocked some and been told, ‘At last,’ by others when they had emerged from their bedroom hand in hand later that day. They had been dating ever since and were now living together in a small house. Harry had defeated Voldemort about six months into their relationship, and there had been a very tense period when they were not sure if he was going to pull through or not. But he had, and he had promised Draco that he was never going to leave him like that again.
It seemed weird, but Draco had not been completely in love with Harry when he had defeated the Dark Lord. He had cared about him deeply, yes, but there was still a little way to go. It was only once he started to share his life completely with Harry that it had happened. Picking up after Harry and learning all of his little quirks, those were the things that finally caused Draco to completely fall. It was the little things about the famous brunet that made Draco love him with all of his heart. The way that Harry would always pass Draco the financial section of the Daily Prophet whilst he read the rest of the paper and the way that he never undid his shoes when he took them off. The way that he would leave dirty clothes everywhere but would never fail to do the dishes.
Watching Harry doze on the couch in their living room, Draco smiled. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter when he had fallen in love with his husband. The fact was that he owned Draco’s heart completely, and vice versa. The only thing that mattered was their love.
This is just a one-shot that popped into my head one evening. As usual, comments are always welcome!
Author: elleian
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Unless otherwise stated, everything is owned by JK Rowling, Warner Brothers, etc. I do not make any money from this and I have no intent to infringe anyone’s copyright.
Summary: Draco didn't just fall in love with Harry at the drop of a hat. No, it was a process that took a long time to happen.
Draco did not know the exact moment that he had fallen in love with Harry Potter. Thinking about it, he realised that it had not happened at a single point in time. No, it had been a gradual process, one that had been sneakily happening for a long time. By the time that he eventually discovered what was going on, it was too late to stop it, but he wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. Falling in love with Harry was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
He thought back to the beginning of his relationship with Harry. Of course, it had not started well, as had generally been the case with all things that involved both him and The Boy Who Lived. Being forced to work together by Dumbledore had not been high on either of their priority lists, and they had spent every spare minute that they had either fighting with each other or plotting to. To say that they had a rivalry going on would have been an understatement.
One day, though, it all changed. They had arrived back from a mission where they had been forced to watch a house for Death Eater comings and goings. They had been stuck behind a hedge for at least six hours, and it had soon become apparent that the Death Eaters were not going to show up. By the time that they returned to Grimmauld Place, they were both cold, tired and irritated. Neither of them had been pleased, then, to discover upon their arrival Ron and Hermione sprawled across the kitchen table, trying to suck each other’s faces off. The couple had not seemed to mind that they had an audience, however, and Draco and Harry had quickly left the room.
At that point in time, Draco wanted nothing more but to wash his eyeballs with bleach and to get as far away from that house as possible. Circumstances being what they were, this was impossible. Somebody had made a massive oversight when they had allocated rooms in the house, and they had been informed before they had left on their mission that they were to share a room. Draco had conveniently forgotten about this, until now.
Perhaps a little background information would be useful at this point. It was now a year since Harry and Draco’s year had left Hogwarts. Everybody had expected the final showdown between Harry and Voldemort to occur during Harry’s seventh year at school, but it was not to be. With the imprisonment of his father and disappearance of his mother, Draco found he had to choose between serving Voldemort or turning to the Order for help. He had chosen the latter, and had been accepted into their ranks, thought not without much difficulty at first.
All of the members of the Order were residing at Grimmauld Place. The last members had moved in that day, which led to the current situation. Somebody - Dumbledore, most probably, Draco thought - had decided that it would be perfectly suitable for Harry and Draco to be assigned a room together. Neither of the men were pleased.
Draco had followed Harry through the house to the room that they had been given. Upon entering, both men saw with horror that the tiny room was furnished with one double bed and nothing more. It was a small double bed at that. They had looked at each other, and for a moment their thoughts had been perfectly in synch. ‘Oh no, this can’t be happening. I can’t share a bed with him!’ But they had no choice.
They had spent the next ten minutes arguing. Both had been adamant that they did not want to sleep in the same bed, but both had been equally resolute that they were not going to sleep on the floor. In the end, Harry had held up his hands. He told Draco that he was going to sleep in the bed, and that whether or not Draco was going to sleep in the bed with him was his choice. Whilst Draco stared at him, Harry quickly divested himself of his clothes so that he was left wearing only his boxers, and he then climbed into the bed.
Draco did not know what to do. He certainly did not want to sleep on the floor, that was for sure. There was barely any space in the tiny room which seemed to resemble little more than a three metre square box. He dreaded to think what was on the floor, or even under the bed.
He had looked at Harry, lying on his side at one edge of the bed, had looked at the floor, then back to the bed again. Sighing, he had removed his clothes in a similar fashion to Harry and had gingerly slipped into the other side of the bed. Harry gave no indication that he had noticed the other man’s presence, and Draco relaxed when he realised that Harry was not going to try to hex him or push him out of the bed. He didn’t know how he managed it, but he managed to drift off to sleep.
When Draco had woken up a few hours later, the first thing that he noticed was that he was in a strange room. He had been staying in Grimmauld Place for some time, but this was not the same room that he normally slept in. The next thing that he noticed was that a warm body appeared to be pressed to his front. Or rather, he was pressed to somebody’s back.
With a start, his memory came back to him. Oh Merlin, he was sharing a bed with Harry Potter! That must mean that the person he was pressing himself against was the Golden Boy himself. Draco was sure that he should feel sick, or at least mildly disgusted. But he was shocked to discover that this actually felt quite nice. The heat from Harry’s body seemed to be permeating into his own skin, and he had no immediate desire to remove himself from his current position.
Closing his eyes once more, Draco listened to the steady breathing coming from his bed mate. He could feel the steady beating of Harry’s heart from where his arm was draped across Harry’s chest. Draco did not want to think about why his body had decided that this would be a good way to sleep, or what Harry would think when he woke up. Right now, he felt more safe and content than he had done in a long time.
‘Its funny,’ he mused. ‘If I had been in this position a few years ago, I would have been trying to hex him into oblivion.’ Draco discovered that hexing Harry was the last thing he wanted to do. This was still slightly shocking. Despite having to work together, their enmity had not gone away. Many days Draco felt like just firing a load of hexes at the other man because he was annoying him so much. But now, with Harry completely vulnerable and unable to defend himself, Draco did not feel any compulsion to try to hurt Harry. Instead, he felt oddly protective of the man whom he was curled around.
The last thoughts that were in Draco’s mind when he drifted back into sleep were, ‘I could get used to this.’
When Draco had awoken the following morning, he discovered that he was in a different position yet again. His arm was still wrapped around Harry’s waist, but Harry was now on his side facing Draco, his own arm over Draco’s middle and his head so close to Draco’s that they were almost touching. When Draco blinked, trying to focus his eyes, he saw Harry’s eyes open too. “I thought you were going to sleep all day,” Harry said.
Draco gaped at him for a while. In all honesty, he had been expecting Harry to start yelling at him or hexing him. They were, after all, in quite a compromising situation. Despite both of them still having their boxers on, there was very little separating either of them. Add to that the fact that they had arms draped across each other, and Draco was very sure that he should be in an immense deal of pain by now. “Um,” he said, not quite sure what else to say.
“Do you think that Dumbledore planned this?” Harry asked Draco after a minute.
“What?” Draco didn’t understand.
“This,” Harry said gesturing at himself and Draco. When Draco whimpered at the loss of heat as Harry moved his arm, Harry chuckled and replaced it on Draco’s waist.
“Probably,” Draco said, realising what Harry meant. Dumbledore could be a sly old bastard at times. He had probably made sure that there was a double bed in the room in the hope that he and Harry would be forced to get close to each other.
“So,” said Harry. “What are we going to do now?”
Draco contemplated for a moment. He could get out of bed, tell Harry that it had all been a mistake, and they could both get on with our lives. Draco was aware that this was the option he would probably be expected to take, however, for some reason it didn’t feel like the right thing to do. So he did the only other thing possible. He moved his head forward by just the few centimetres needed, and kissed Harry.
When they parted, Harry’s face split into a grin and Draco’s did the same. “You know, I’m still going to fight with you all the time if we go out,” Draco said.
Harry shrugged. “True, but I’m used to that by now.”
Draco shifted and hugged Harry tighter than he had been before. “So does this mean that we are a couple now?” he asked.
“Yep,” said Harry. “I must admit I’d been wondering if you were going to make a move on me.” Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “It was because of something Hermione said,” Harry told him. “She mentioned something about people fighting when they liked each other as a way of trying to hide their feelings. When I thought about it, I realised that she might be right. I had constantly followed you around during school, after all.”
Draco contemplated this. “Maybe,” he said eventually. “Though I have really wanted to hex you something rotten in quite a few situations.”
“I think I can safely say that the feeling has been mutual,” Harry laughed. “You can be so aggravating at times.”
“Mmm,” Draco agreed, “but you have to admit that I’m pretty good at it.”
This made Harry laugh even more, and Draco shut him up the only way he knew how; by kissing him.
That had been over two years ago now. They had shocked some and been told, ‘At last,’ by others when they had emerged from their bedroom hand in hand later that day. They had been dating ever since and were now living together in a small house. Harry had defeated Voldemort about six months into their relationship, and there had been a very tense period when they were not sure if he was going to pull through or not. But he had, and he had promised Draco that he was never going to leave him like that again.
It seemed weird, but Draco had not been completely in love with Harry when he had defeated the Dark Lord. He had cared about him deeply, yes, but there was still a little way to go. It was only once he started to share his life completely with Harry that it had happened. Picking up after Harry and learning all of his little quirks, those were the things that finally caused Draco to completely fall. It was the little things about the famous brunet that made Draco love him with all of his heart. The way that Harry would always pass Draco the financial section of the Daily Prophet whilst he read the rest of the paper and the way that he never undid his shoes when he took them off. The way that he would leave dirty clothes everywhere but would never fail to do the dishes.
Watching Harry doze on the couch in their living room, Draco smiled. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter when he had fallen in love with his husband. The fact was that he owned Draco’s heart completely, and vice versa. The only thing that mattered was their love.
This is just a one-shot that popped into my head one evening. As usual, comments are always welcome!