FanFic 100 first post!
Title: Home
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy
Prompt: 24: Family
Word Count: 897
Rating: PG, implied PG-13
Summary: A look at the family and home these unlikely lovers have formed. Takes place after Hogwarts ends. Not canon in that aspect.
Author's Notes: This is my first one!
“So it’s unconventional. Who cares?”
This isn’t really the strangest thing that could happen, you know. Two men and a girl, living together in the same house, sleeping together in the same bed, having sex at the same time. Sometimes just the men, sometimes the woman and only one of them, sometimes all three. They love each other. She goes to work, comes home. Draco paints and Blaise writes. They laugh together. When her feet hurt and she’s tired from a day of not being called to do scenes or hasn’t made a part in a long time, they soothe her. Rub her back, her feet. Tell her they love her. Both hold her when she cries, and curl around her when she sleeps. Draco is the hothead in the relationship. He’s often upset when she comes home upset, saying casting directors are stupid for not choosing her, saying they’re blind. Blaise finds the rationality behind it. They must be looking for a type, he will say, and Draco will get upset, thinking she’s not the type?! They argue over her a lot, because they both love her.
When Blaise’s book gets rejected, or if he gets a best-seller, they celebrate. Champagne and brownies and laughter on the couch. When he’s upset, his brow furrows and his eyes get dark. He draws into himself. He’ll sit alone on the couch with a beer when an editor makes a decision he doesn’t like. She’ll come in and curl up on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and laying her head on his chest. Draco will come in and sit next to them, arm around Blaise’s shoulder, fingers resting on her arm. Connecting all three of them. Most people say she’s the connection, but they mainly know she’s not. They’re all the connection. When Blake cries, as he did when his father died, the roles were switched. He was in the middle when they slept, his partners wrapped around him like chains, arms and legs intertwined. She kissed away his tears and Draco murmured senseless words into his ears. When he finally slept, she met Draco’s eyes above Blaise’s sleeping form and smiled. It’s the smile that she gave them both, the one that made them fall for her.
Draco thinks she works too hard. He never has a hard time selling his paintings. They are what everyone is looking for, he says, but no one admits they will buy. Indeed, they are interesting. Most are nudes, not done by study but by emotion. One client wanted to buy one Draco had been working on for weeks, and Draco turned him down. When she asked why, when Blaise frowned hearing the amount of money he had turned away, Draco shrugged. When he paints, he loses himself in a world. She thinks it the most beautiful feeling in the world, to watch those eyes on her as he paints her. The intensity behind the stare is almost intimidating, but is soothed by the love she sees growing with every stroke of the brush. When Draco gets really into a painting he’ll lock himself in the loft of their flat and won’t come out for days. She and Blaise worry about him, feeling keenly the empty space in the bed and the lost warmth on the couch. They spend more time together, and grow more for it. When Draco emerges, bearded and hollow-faced, bags under his eyes, she draws him a bath and Blaise cooks for him, and they take care of him. The nights he comes back down are the most beautiful.
People say it isn’t right, their relationship. You can’t be in love with two people so much that you want to spend the rest of your life with them both. But they know it’s wrong. With every keystroke typed, and every role played, with every dip of paint, their love grows stronger. They enjoy each other. They argue about draperies. They silence each other’s sighs in the night, and find ways to make everything better. People on the outside don’t see the love, don’t want to believe it can happen. But it can, and it has. They cherish her, and she loves them dearly. She buys them gifts when it’s not their birthdays, and they surprise her with new toys. They all work to grow together, and know that no child will be more loved than theirs. Heads shake when they walk together, hands linked, Draco, Blaise, and her, in a line down the sidewalk. Laughing and leaning into each other. Everyone sees the love, but no one wants to believe.
But they know. They know of the work that has gone into it, and the love that continues to come out of it. They make her feel beautiful and she makes them feel safe. They protect each other and support all endeavors, even ones like bright blue sofas. They tease each other about it, sometimes, but then always fall silent, hands gripping tightly, wondering if one day someone will have the right to take away their love. She hopes not. For it is in them, her boys, her men, that she has finally found a home. She warms their hearts, brings them peace. They’re scared, but don’t show it, and when the day comes, they will be joined together in the way they should be.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy
Prompt: 24: Family
Word Count: 897
Rating: PG, implied PG-13
Summary: A look at the family and home these unlikely lovers have formed. Takes place after Hogwarts ends. Not canon in that aspect.
Author's Notes: This is my first one!
“So it’s unconventional. Who cares?”
This isn’t really the strangest thing that could happen, you know. Two men and a girl, living together in the same house, sleeping together in the same bed, having sex at the same time. Sometimes just the men, sometimes the woman and only one of them, sometimes all three. They love each other. She goes to work, comes home. Draco paints and Blaise writes. They laugh together. When her feet hurt and she’s tired from a day of not being called to do scenes or hasn’t made a part in a long time, they soothe her. Rub her back, her feet. Tell her they love her. Both hold her when she cries, and curl around her when she sleeps. Draco is the hothead in the relationship. He’s often upset when she comes home upset, saying casting directors are stupid for not choosing her, saying they’re blind. Blaise finds the rationality behind it. They must be looking for a type, he will say, and Draco will get upset, thinking she’s not the type?! They argue over her a lot, because they both love her.
When Blaise’s book gets rejected, or if he gets a best-seller, they celebrate. Champagne and brownies and laughter on the couch. When he’s upset, his brow furrows and his eyes get dark. He draws into himself. He’ll sit alone on the couch with a beer when an editor makes a decision he doesn’t like. She’ll come in and curl up on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and laying her head on his chest. Draco will come in and sit next to them, arm around Blaise’s shoulder, fingers resting on her arm. Connecting all three of them. Most people say she’s the connection, but they mainly know she’s not. They’re all the connection. When Blake cries, as he did when his father died, the roles were switched. He was in the middle when they slept, his partners wrapped around him like chains, arms and legs intertwined. She kissed away his tears and Draco murmured senseless words into his ears. When he finally slept, she met Draco’s eyes above Blaise’s sleeping form and smiled. It’s the smile that she gave them both, the one that made them fall for her.
Draco thinks she works too hard. He never has a hard time selling his paintings. They are what everyone is looking for, he says, but no one admits they will buy. Indeed, they are interesting. Most are nudes, not done by study but by emotion. One client wanted to buy one Draco had been working on for weeks, and Draco turned him down. When she asked why, when Blaise frowned hearing the amount of money he had turned away, Draco shrugged. When he paints, he loses himself in a world. She thinks it the most beautiful feeling in the world, to watch those eyes on her as he paints her. The intensity behind the stare is almost intimidating, but is soothed by the love she sees growing with every stroke of the brush. When Draco gets really into a painting he’ll lock himself in the loft of their flat and won’t come out for days. She and Blaise worry about him, feeling keenly the empty space in the bed and the lost warmth on the couch. They spend more time together, and grow more for it. When Draco emerges, bearded and hollow-faced, bags under his eyes, she draws him a bath and Blaise cooks for him, and they take care of him. The nights he comes back down are the most beautiful.
People say it isn’t right, their relationship. You can’t be in love with two people so much that you want to spend the rest of your life with them both. But they know it’s wrong. With every keystroke typed, and every role played, with every dip of paint, their love grows stronger. They enjoy each other. They argue about draperies. They silence each other’s sighs in the night, and find ways to make everything better. People on the outside don’t see the love, don’t want to believe it can happen. But it can, and it has. They cherish her, and she loves them dearly. She buys them gifts when it’s not their birthdays, and they surprise her with new toys. They all work to grow together, and know that no child will be more loved than theirs. Heads shake when they walk together, hands linked, Draco, Blaise, and her, in a line down the sidewalk. Laughing and leaning into each other. Everyone sees the love, but no one wants to believe.
But they know. They know of the work that has gone into it, and the love that continues to come out of it. They make her feel beautiful and she makes them feel safe. They protect each other and support all endeavors, even ones like bright blue sofas. They tease each other about it, sometimes, but then always fall silent, hands gripping tightly, wondering if one day someone will have the right to take away their love. She hopes not. For it is in them, her boys, her men, that she has finally found a home. She warms their hearts, brings them peace. They’re scared, but don’t show it, and when the day comes, they will be joined together in the way they should be.