#malfoid #dracaena #harrypotter #fanfic after the second wizarding war || "Harry James Potter!" The Golden Trio had just finished talking about how to take care of the Elder Wand and were already daydreaming about how comfortable the beds in Gryffindor's Common Room were while huddling together outside of Hogwarts, gazing at the beautiful view of the Black Lake in the morning when a very familiar cry rings behind them, yet what was said with such might and arrogance years ago now is filled with a hint of kindness and relief, albeit still a tad bitter and trembling as she fought back the tears.. "I demand that you explain everything, from start to finish without missing any details, to me right now!" The trio looked back. Dracaena Malfoy stood behind them in a very imposing air with her arms crossed, robes tattered, and marks of battle still visible on her. Yet her eyes–her very beautiful emerald eyes–were brimming with tears, catching the golden morning sun as though a spotlight had been shone upon her. Oh no, Harry thought to himself, It appears that I have yet another slytherin to face. He looked towards Ron and Hermione, who exchanged understanding looks with him before letting him slip out from the huddle (although Ron smirks as if mocking him). He stood and walked toward her while trying to arrange words to explain himself, yet every sentence keeps falling apart. "Dracy, I– Weren't you with your parents? Have they–" His words went unfinished, as the pureblood ran towards him, albeit limping, and threw herself fully into his arms, as though trying to hold on to whatever remained of him, especially after what had happened the previous night in the woods. The other two simply smiled, amused by the sight of two rivaling houses cradle each other and how unbelievable the sight would have seemed 7 years earlier. She pounded his chest with her fists angrily, though no force that could hurt him was felt in each thump. "Don't you ever do that to me ever again, Potter! I saw you leave the Great Hall and go into the woods alone last night, no explanations whatsoever, and suddenly Riddle announced that you're dead with what appears to be your lifeless body in that giant idiot's arms, a-and then suddenly you're alive again, and–and–" Dracaena paused her tirade, trying to process what had happened. The two of them defying The Killing Curse from the Dark Lord himself, hands clasped around a single wand, both of them as one in perfect unison. "A-and don't get me started on you disappearing from the great hall again when everybody was there celebrating! How can you always rile me up and make me such a mess when--" Without a warning, Harry silenced her outburst with a sudden kiss, tender and affectionate, scattering every last word of her outburst. A quick way to shut her up, Harry thought. After a long moment, enough to calm every nerve in her and stop her trembling, they left each others lips, the way she gasped for air reminded him how cute she could be when she wasn’t in her prestigious Malfoy-heir mode. She then buried her face against his chest, her sobs muffled against his shirt. "I–I thought I'd lost you.. don't you ever walk off to your death like that again.. Certainly not without my permission!" She exclaims, though muffled and filled with tears in between. "Of course, Dracaena." Harry patted the back of her head, holding her close. "I'm sorry for putting you through everything, not just today, but for everything I’d done to you over the past seven years." He whispered softly, "Though some of it was in response to you being a jerk." "Why are you apologizing!? You, of all people, shouldn't apologize like that! It makes you sounds like you're preparing to die again!" She protested through her tears. Typical Malfoy, nothing but complaints and protests about everything. "But no! You're the one who started everything on the train back then! Why are we even discussing this?" She landed several quick jabs to his ribs, and he certainly felt that one. "Ow! Okay–okay! I'm sorry!" Harry let out an amused, accepting laugh, reminding her once again of how precious he was to her, and how much she loves him. She lifted her head and stared directly into his eyes. The burn marks on her left cheek from the incident in the Room of Requirements were still visible, yet didn’t diminish her beauty whatsoever. "You. Me. Three Broomsticks. Now. We have a lot to talk about, and I need several bottles of butterbeer to get me through all of it," she demanded with a pout. Harry looked toward Ron and Hermione, who were now snuggling closer together as they gazed down at the view of the Black Lake below. Ron noticed Harry looking and waved an arm. "You two bugger off first. We'll join you later. Thought we'd make a quick trip back to the Great Hall first." Ron gestured towards Hermione, who was now hugging him tightly. Knowing that his fate was sealed by the Viper Queen herself–and that there is no way he would be enjoying the warmth of his Gryffindor bed anytime soon with her clinging to him–he agreed with Dracaena's request. "Well then, I suppose i'll humor you for now. Would you like to keep clinging to me like a python, or would my fair lady prefer to be carried like a princess?" He asked with a flirtatious smirk. Another quick jab to his ribs. Stronger than before. He winced in pain. She released him from her embrace, quickly fixed her hair, and tidied her robes with a spell before hugging his arm. "With this, you won't be disappearing anytime soon, Potter." "Of course, Ms. Malfoy. Shall we, then?" She pouted. "My father will hear about this." The two strolled toward Hogsmeade, while enjoying the crisp morning air, basked in the relief that followed the Dark Lord’s defeat. Now, they finally had time for each other. No more accusations or secret wars between them. No more chasing Horcruxes or running Death Eater errands. No more being haunted by the seemingly inevitable clash of their opposing destinies—a fate they had ironically defied together anyway. Now they had time, without sneaking off secretly to meet in the Room of Requirements every Thursday at four, without people prying into their relationship and gossiping about them, without other Gryffindors and Slytherins whispering in the corridors whenever they exchanged insults. Now they have time. For The Boy Who Lived, and the Girl Who Loved Him.