But... at least I have a fic! A finished one! I spent the latter half of my winter break working on this, and... I don't like it. I was just getting frustrated because I seem to be incapable of finishing fics, so I wanted to finish something. And I did, even if it's teh suck.
Title: P.S. I Love You
Author: Annie (_pinkchocolate)
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Albus/Scorpius on the side
Rating: Somewhere between PG-13 and M
Warnings: Er... almost the whole thing is in italics? So if you have sensitive eyesight, I'd recommend not reading. Also, this fic is unbeta'd.
Disclaimer: I just take JK Rowling's world and make it slashy.
Summary: One hundred letters, written back and forth between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy over the course of twenty-five years.
Word Count: 7,558
Draco scowled down at the blank sheet of parchment in front of him. He twirled his quill between his fingers, wondering how best to phrase his question. Good manners dictated that he should begin every letter with a short lead-in, but then again, this was Potter he was writing to. Draco doubted "manners" was even a word in Potter's dictionary.
A knock came at his door.
"Draco? Are you finished?" called his mother's voice.
"Yes, Mother. I'll be out in a minute."
Draco waited until the sound of her footsteps retreating faded away. Then, with a sigh, he dipped his quill in his inkpot and pressed it to the paper.
Tuesday, May 19, 1998
I need my wand back. When can you meet?
P.S. I suppose I should thank you for yesterday. I know you didn't do it because you care, but my family and I still appreciate the assistance you lent us. As much as I hate to admit it, we probably wouldn't have gotten off if it hadn't been for you.
I'm going Diagon Alley on Friday. How about in front of Florean Fortescue's at noon? And I do care. Your mother saved my life.
Wednesday, May 20, 1998
I do hope you know the store is closed. Fortescue is dead.
I hate you, Malfoy.
Thursday, May 21, 1998
The feeling is mutual.
Monday, March 15, 2004
Congratulations on your team's win in Which Broomstick's first annual celebrity Quidditch match. On behalf of The Daily Prophet, I would like to request an interview with you about your performance in the game. Please respond with an appropriate date and time.
The Daily Prophet
If you ever refer to me as "Mr. Potter" again, I will personally take it upon myself to check you into St. Mungo's.
Anyway, how are you? It's been, what, six years since we last spoke? I have to say it surprises me that you became a reporter. I always figured you'd want to be the one getting interviewed, not the one doing the interviewing. Why'd you do it?
Thursday, March 18, 2004
Please respond with an appropriate date and time.
The Daily Prophet
P.S. For your information, I like to maintain some degree of formality whenever possible. Clearly, that concept is lost on you.
P.P.S. Why I became a reporter is none of your business.
P.P.P.S. You will never get your cover page if you take me to St. Mungo's, so don't even think about it.
Fine. Come to my office Sunday afternoon, and you can have your bloody interview.
Friday, March 19, 2004
I would prefer not to do this in the Ministry. How's in front of Florean Fortescue's again? It's been rebuilt, you know. Renamed, too, but I can't pronounce the new name.
Two o'clock, Potter. You'd better be there.
Fuck, I'm sorry, Malfoy. Ginny went into labour, and I had to rush her to the hospital. That's where I am right now.
P.S. It's a boy.
Again, I apologise for missing our meeting. We can schedule another time if it's that important to you.
If it's any consolation, we named the baby after you.
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
Did you really?
No, but at least you've finally responded. The silent treatment is very first year, Malfoy.
Sunday, April 4, 2004
Great. Just my luck. My assignment has been changed. The paper wants to do a special feature on you and your brat, and I have to interview you for it.
Two o'clock tomorrow in front of the ice cream shop with the name I can't pronounce. Oh, and we might have to go to your house afterwards. Believe me, I'd rather not step foot into an abode kept by a Weasley, but apparently photographs are absolutely necessary.
Monday, April 12, 2004
Enclosed is an advance copy of Wednesday's The Daily Prophet. Thank you for your time. It was a pleasure doing business with you.
The Daily Prophet
I read about what happened. Are you going to marry her?
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Fuck off, Potter. Do you make it a habit to track and gloat over all of my personal failures? Does it give you an inner sense of satisfaction to know I've finally soiled my family's name beyond repair? Yes, I'm going to bloody marry her, how can I not?
Just leave me the fuck alone.
What, like you haven't been there to witness all of mine? I'm not trying to make you feel worse, Malfoy. I just wanted to tell you that I hope everything works out. Astoria seems nice enough. Marriage isn't so bad, you know.
Congratulations on the wedding. I saw the pictures in the Prophet. Astoria looked beautiful; you can't even tell she's already five months along from the photo. You weren't so bad yourself.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
I'm only writing this because my mother insisted that I inform you of the birth of my son. Seeing as she's finally speaking to me again, I have no intentions of displeasing her by not doing as she requested.
His name is Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. He was born in the early morning on February 22nd. He and Astoria are both doing well so far.
Don't bother replying to this letter.
I can't believe you named the poor thing Scorpius Hyperion. I hope you and your wife are both aware he's going to be teased mercilessly when he starts school.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
My son is not a thing.
Sorry, I didn't mean to imply your son's an object. But it's nice to see you defending him. Looks like you'll turn out to be a decent father after all.
Monday, February 28, 2005
You fail at paying compliments.
Ginny's pregnant again.
Friday, March 11, 2005
If you were hoping I would congratulate you for reimpregnating the Weasley bint, you thought wrong. Though I suppose it IS a praiseworthy feat in the sense that not many people would have the courage to copulate with a Weasley more than once...
I must admit I'm disappointed in you, Potter. I expected Weasley and Granger to have a small colony of freckly, bushy-haired terrors by the time you had your first, but now it looks like events are progressing in the opposite direction.
Very funny, Malfoy. That's not why I wrote you. I need your advice.
Monday, March 14, 2005
For the record, I spat out a mouthful of tea all over the front of my robe when I read your note, so expect the cleaning bill within a week or so. Anyway, why in Merlin's name do you need my advice? Why can't you ask one of the members of your fanclub?
P.S. If you're going to cross something out, do it right. Half-arsed strikes conceal nothing.
No one wants to hear my problems. They think my life is perfect.
I don't want to disappoint them.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Oh, very well. But only because I despise you and want to pay you back for kicking me when I was down.
Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at 6 pm tomorrow.
Ron and Hermione are throwing me a party for my 25th birthday. I told them they didn't need to, but they insisted. It looks like it's going to be formal, with a bunch of stuffy Ministry officials and fancy foreign food, so I was wondering if you'd like to come. If so, I've included an invitation. You can bring Astoria if you'd like.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
What makes you think I would want to go to your birthday party and mingle with your friends?
The only reason why I'm considering going is because Astoria keeps whinging about how I never take her to high profile social events. She wants to meet your wife, for some ridiculous reason. I told her Weasley's going to be on bedrest.
Monday, August 1, 2005
Last night was a mistake.
I'm so fucking sorry, Malfoy. I wasn't thinking straight. I had too many glasses of champagne and... fuck, it's been so long since Ginny let me touch her because she hates her body when she's pregnant, and there were all those bloody people trying to talk to me, and I just wanted to get out of there.
I know right now you probably hate me more than you've ever hated me, but I hope you accept my apology. It'll never happen again, I swear. It meant nothing. Please don't tell Ginny. I'm not gay.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Malfoy, did you send me that note? I suppose you're still alive, then. I tried contacting you at your office several times, but they told me you quit.
And what do you mean, you are?
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Well done. Once again, you've managed to go and get yourself hexed into a coma. I'll never understand why you refuse to get a different job. I know you're still in your prime and all that shit, but you have a wife and two children who need you. What do you think they'll do if you get killed during a raid? The Weasleys already have too many brats and not enough gold to support them all.
Anyway, I don't trust this letter to stay unopened while you continue to fight off death, so I'm going to write this right now as a birthday present to myself and send it with Otis once you're on your feet again - that is, if you survive this time. Which I have no doubt you will, since you've already made it clear so many times before that it takes more than any old Dark wizard to do you in.
Yes, I sent that note. I'm also very much alive, as you so astutely reasoned. I quit my job at the Prophet because I moved to France with my family over three years ago. The fact that you failed to notice that says quite a lot about your Auror skills. No wonder you've been hospitalised so many times.
Think back. If you recall, you sent me a letter after the events of your 25th birthday stating that you're not gay. Well, that's what I meant - I am.
That's why I applied for my job at the Prophet. I was... attracted to the co-editor-in-chief. And don't get any ideas; I didn't sleep with him to get my job. I realised long before they accepted my application that he wasn't my type. But that's the story behind my career choice, in case you were still curious.
And just because I know you're simple-minded enough to ask, the reason why I slept with Astoria is because I, like you, had one too many glasses of wine and started... questioning myself. My parents were pressing for an heir, even though they knew about my sexual preferences, so I wanted to make sure there was absolutely no chance that I was into women before I went and married a witch of their choosing. Naturally, everything went wrong, and the heir my parents wanted ended up being conceived out of marriage. But they've forgiven me, and now I'm in a respectable marriage with a tolerable wife and a son whom I love, despite what you might think. As long I don't make my infidelity public, I can fuck around all I want. All's well that ends well.
Well, now that I've told you all of that, I believe the sensible thing to do would be to go and burn this letter immediately.
P.S. I never got the chance to complain about the births of two new Potter-Weasleys. I heard a rumour that you named your second son Albus Severus. And the Weaselette didn't object? No, wait, you must have let her name your daughter in exchange for her allowing you to name young Albus. Only a Weasley would be so stupid as to name her child after a living person. Appalling, really. What has this world come to?
(Consider that four years' worth of complaints.)
Why am I not surprised that you only gathered the guts to write me that letter when you knew I might not live to read it?
I don't really know what to say. I guess I'm mostly relieved that I didn't offend you that night. I mean, not that it matters what your sexual orientation is, because what I did was still wrong, but I'm hoping the fact that you're writing to me again means you've forgiven me. And if it helps, I have no problem with your being gay. It's just... I'm sorry, but I have to ask: Why do you stay with Astoria if you don't love her?
How have you been? I can't believe you moved to France. What made you decide to do it? I thought you enjoyed your life here. The people at the Prophet sure seemed sorry about your resignation.
Well, regardless of your reasons for leaving, I hope you're enjoying yourself. Ginny wants to take a vacation there, but it's hard to find time between her games and practices, my job (yes, I'm still an Auror after what happened... I appreciate your concern for my family, but I've learned from my mistakes), and the kids. Maybe we'll go for the hols. If we do, I'll let you know.
Happy belated birthday, by the way.
Monday, June 29, 2009
For your information, the wizarding world as a whole is tolerant of homosexuality. We're nothing like those disgusting Muggles of yours, with their savage treatment of gays. So I never expected you to have a problem, especially considering one of your best friends is a
As for the reasons why I married Astoria, go ask said Muggle-born friend. I'm sure she'll be able to enlighten you on the intricacies of marriages of convenience.
France is much more exciting, much more alive than Britain. I prefer the climate and the people. It's difficult relearning the language, but I'd much rather be here than in London, trudging through puddles on my way to interview yet another pointless celebrity. Unlike you, I like change in my life.
Don't bring your wife here. She already has enough freckles.
Oh, I never thought about it that way. I guess it makes sense, since Muggles don't care about blood.
I asked Hermione, but I still can't wrap my mind around the concept. Why would you marry someone if you don't love them? Marriage doesn't give you power or status. And what if you fall in love with someone else? Then you'd be stuck in a relationship you could have avoided. Seems a bit stupid, really.
P.S. Speech? Yeah, right. You'd probably be off celebrating if I died.</strike>
Sunday, July 18, 2009
Of course you wouldn't understand, Potter. You Gryffindors idealise blind monogamy You never think about what's convenient or resourceful, because you let your feelings take over common sense.
Marriage is important because it provides you with a cover. When you're married, you're not watched as closely. You're free to live your life out of the spotlight. Furthermore, if you marry for convenience, you'll never have reason to divorce. It's a lot less messy than tying the knot with whomever you feel attracted to at the moment. Marriage is also a sign of respectability and maturity - another reason why you don't understand it.
Hermione told me there was an article about your apothecary in the The Practical Potioneer today. Apparently it's well-known, even over here. I hope you aren't selling anything illegal.
I clipped out the article and sent it with the owl, just in case you were interested in reading it.
Oh, and I saw your dad the other day. I asked about you, and he got a bit shirty with me. More so than usual, I mean. Said I had no right to enquire after you, and then refused to elaborate. Do you know what he meant by it?
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
We're not best mates, so unless you have a better reason to contact me than wanting to tell me about your daily activities, don't bother. And no, I haven't the slightest idea what my father meant by it. He never liked you much.
Fuck you, Malfoy.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
You already have.
Happy birthday, Malfoy. You're officially old.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
For the sake of formality, happy birthday. My wife baked you chocolate biscuits for some reason. Scorpius insisted on helping out. They'll probably be stale by the time you receive them, but I'm sure you value the thought above all else.
And I am NOT old. If I'm old, you are too, which means it's time for you to finally get another job.
Ginny officially announced her retirement to the Harpies a week ago. She's already been offered a job as the senior Quidditch correspondent for the Prophet, which means she'll have more time now.
We've decided to take a family vacation to France for the holidays. Robards has given me a much more flexible schedule now that I've got a few years under my belt, and the kids are old enough to travel. Any suggestions for good vacation spots?
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
If you come to Cannes, I'll kill you.
We're in Cannes. The city really is beautiful. We took advantage of the sunshine yesterday and went to the Boulevard de la Croisette (is that how you spell it?), but it was still too cold for the kids to go near the water.
I was wondering if you'd fancy having a drink with me tomorrow. Ginny wants to go back to the Croisette and do some shopping, but I'm not too fond of that kind of stuff. I'd rather have a look around the wizarding side of town. How about it?
Monday, December 20, 2010
I can't believe you actually came here.
Avoiding me isn't going to work, Malfoy. The hotel we're staying at is run by wizards. They gave me directions to your apothecary. By the time you read this, I'll be standing in front of you.
I need to see you again.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
You've got a wife, you horny fuck.
Malfoy, please. I'm leaving on Thursday. Just one more time.
I'm never going to take another vacation again. The office looked like someone set loose a colony of nifflers in it. Reports everywhere, misassigned cases, malfunctioning equipment... Christ, what a nightmare. At least I'm not responsible for most of it. Oh, and to top it all off, Lily caught some kind of bug while we were on vacation, so now I've got to come home to crying and screaming every night.
I've been thinking... you should come back to Britain. You could move your apothecary here; we've a shortage of good ones. And we'd be able to see each other more often.
I miss you. I know you won't believe me, but I do.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now? Forget the last two weeks. Bury them away with your other skeletons. We fucked a couple of times. We're not in a relationship.
You. Have. A. Wife.
I know, and I tried, I really did. I just can't... fuck and forget. I want to talk to you face-to-face, even if it's only to sort out this mess.
I love Ginny, but...
I can't stop thinking about you.
P.S. You changed your signature?
P.P.S. If you receive this letter by the 21st, tell Scorpius I say happy birthday.
Saturday, February 20, 2011
It's called "bisexual". Apparently the bigoted Muggles didn't teach you that one, either. They probably thought it'd give you ideas. It pains me to say that they might have been right.
If you love her, stay with her. It's as simple as that. You're too old to be experimenting, and too young to be going through a mid-life crisis. If you really prefer putting your cock in an arsehole, beg the Weaselette next time you have sex. It can be a much-needed method of birth control for you two. Either that, or go find another gay bloke to shag. Merlin knows there are enough of them around.
I don't like you, Potter. You were a good fuck, mistake or not, but that's it. There is nothing ahead of us, no reason to continue this little rendezvous. Stop writing me. You'll forget eventually.
And yes, I changed my signature. I do have a first name, you know.
Did you know it's been exactly seven years since the Prophet printed that article you wrote about me and James? I was organising my things this morning, and I found it under a pile of baby pictures. Can you believe it? It feels like a lifetime has passed since then.
My life's been steadily going downhill since last Christmas. I love my job, but it's not quite as exciting now that the supply of Dark wizards on the run has decreased so dramatically. Things are dull with James and Albus both in preschool. Ginny says they need to go to jumpstart their magic, but now they spend most afternoons at their mates' places. And Ginny's always out and about, commenting at Quidditch games and interviewing players afterwards, so the only one around is Lily. Her fourth birthday is in two days, and I haven't the slightest clue what to buy her. She says she wants one of those make your own love potion kits, but I can't imagine what she'd want it for. Hermione says she's going through a "phase". Hell if I know what that means.
I dreamt about you the other night. We were at the Croisette, but there was no one else around. You grabbed me and pulled me into the water, and then you told me to fuck you. Oh, God, I almost came just hearing you say that. I tried to pull your robe off, but the water was making it cling to your skin. You just stood there with the waves rolling past you, staring straight through me like I wasn't even there. Then for some reason you sprouted these enormous white wings and a beak. Mental, I know, but you looked like a Veela, except so much more beautiful. You took off, and all I could do was watch you disappear, wanting you so badly it hurt. When I woke up, I still wanted you.
I don't know why I'm writing this. To quell my own boredom, I reckon, because right now I'm sitting in my office surrounded by hundreds of Auror training applications, and just thinking about them is giving me a massive headache.
Chances are you won't even read past the first sentence before you rip this letter apart, so I guess I'll stop here.
Merlin help me, I still miss you.
Happy birthday, Malfoy. There are a million things I want to say to you, but I'd rather say them to your face, so I'll wait until I see you again.
Happy Christmas. I hope you and your family are doing well. Ginny mentioned our vacation last year this morning, and the first thing that came to mind was your face when you sucked me off the second night we met up in Cannes. I felt so guilty that I had to excuse myself and leave the room. I went to the bathroom and wanked thinking about you.
What a way to kick off the holidays, huh?
Friday, January 13, 2012
Don't do this to me, Potter.
Do what? I'm only telling you how I feel.
Come back. I'll leave Ginny for you.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Shut up. Stop it. Those are empty words, Potter, and you know it. You're lovesick because you've finally discovered what it's like to be with a man. Anything has to be better than your dull, Weasley-infested life.
When you look back at these years, you're going to laugh your arse off. Face it - you belong with Weasley. If not the female, then one of the males, though I shudder at the thought.
Do you want to know the truth, Potter? I'm going to tell it to you right now, and make sure you read this carefully, because I'm only going to say it once. I want you. But I stand by what I said several letters ago. There is no future ahead of us if we decide to give up everything.
What's "everything" if none of it means anything? I can't live the life you live, always having to do things for convenience or show or reputation. I don't want to have to pretend that every encounter never happened, and I don't want you to be my dirty little secret. I'll divorce Ginny. Regardless of what you do, I can't be with her if my heart's not in our marriage. I may not love her like I used to, but I still do love her enough to tell her the truth.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
What, do you love me now? Don't be absurd. We had a fling. You're only attracted to me because I'm an outlet from your boring, everyday life. As usual, you like the thrill of breaking all the rules. Believe me, Potter, that thrill's only temporary. Rules exist for a reason.
You can go ahead and divorce the Weaselette, but I'm not going to leave my wife for you, Potter. You know my feelings on marriage. I refuse to tag another scandal onto my name.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Potter, you utter moron. Why did you do it? If you're trying to teach me a lesson for something I've done to you in the past by putting your soon-to-be miserable life on my conscience, you've succeeded. Now please, just go back to her. The article I read did mention that she said she wished things hadn't turned out the way they did.
And... why didn't you just tell them the truth if you're so intent on ruining my life? Merlin, you're such a fucking Gryffindor. You never THINK about anything you do.
I hate you so much.
What I told them WAS the truth. I'm gay. I like men. How is that a lie? And I'm not going back to Ginny. We're friends now, and that's a hell of a lot better than the marriage we had.
It's your move now, Draco. Can you keep denying yourself what you want for the rest of your life? Or will you suck it up and be a man for the first time in your life? Honesty won't kill you.
Friday, June 17, 2015
Blaise will only hurt you.
Thursday, July 7, 2015
I'm sure I'll survive if he does. Besides, he can't be that bad if you trusted him enough to name him as Scorpius's godfather.
He loves me, and he's not ashamed of it. That's all anyone can hope for, right?
Friday, July 15, 2015
I see you finally changed your timestamp. It's a very fitting upgrade, considering your recent promotion to Head Auror. Congratulations.
Monday, October 5, 2015
Did your son really make the Gryffindor Quidditch team? He's a bit young, isn't he?
I suppose he's only following in the footsteps of his father.
Wednesday, October 29, 2015
Yes. I'm very proud of him.
How is it that you're managing to stay updated on my life?
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
The papers. You're quite the celebrity over here. The Boy Who Lived, saviour of the world, youngest Head Auror in history, celebrity representative of the gay community, and now father of a Hogwarts Quidditch star... the French like to stay updated on your glamorous life.
Thursday, August 4, 2016
Blaise heard from one his friends that you're back in town. He wants to drop by and see how you're doing. Where are you staying? And, just out of curiosity, why are you back? Isn't Scorpius set to start Beauxbatons soon?
Sunday, August 7, 2016
We came back because we decided it would be better for Scorpius if he attended Hogwarts. Right now we're staying at our old manor in Kent, but Astoria wishes to move soon.
Tell Blaise he may come see me after I visit my parents tomorrow.
Friday, September 2, 2016
It was nice seeing you again at King's Cross yesterday. You and Astoria both look well, and Scorpius has grown into a good-looking kid. I almost didn't recognise him. Hey, you reckon he and Al will be friends? That'd be something for the other kids in their year to write home about... a Potter and a Malfoy, best mates.
I tried to catch you after the train left, but you were gone by then. I wanted to ask you if you'd like to go for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron when you have some free time. Hannah Abbott - well, Longbottom now - took over as the landlady while you were gone. We might be able to get ourselves a few free drinks if we're nice enough.
And just because I know what you're thinking, I won't try anything. I promise.
Monday, September 5, 2016
Well, well, well. How does it make you feel to know that a Potter has finally graced Slytherin house with his presence? I imagine his brother must loathe him. I'll tell Scorpius to be nice to Albus, just in case.
I'm rather busy these days. I've got my sights set on a vacant site in Diagon Alley, but the bastard who owns it is making the transaction unreasonably difficult. However... I suppose I can fit you into my schedule. You're paying, though.
P.S. Why weren't you with Blaise on Thursday?
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
How's this Friday? I can meet you at the Leaky Cauldron after work.
Blaise and I split up a few weeks ago. I thought you knew.
Wednesday, November 18, 2016
I know you can't meet today, so hopefully the bloke at the counter will give this to you when you're back. Al wants to know if Scorpius can stay over for the holidays. Let me know when I see you on Saturday.
Wednesday, December 23, 2016
Astoria wants to know if you can come over for Christmas dinner. You can bring the kids and whatshisface - the one you're shagging now.
How is Scorpius doing?
Thursday, December 24, 2016
Sure. I was going to go to the Burrow as usual, but Scorpius wants Al to see his place, so I guess I'll come along. Scorpius is fine. He and Al insisted on de-gnoming the garden yesterday. Before you throw a fit, he didn't ruin his robes, nor did he catch a cold. He seemed to enjoy it, actually. Don't be surprised if he asks you for a garden of gnomes for Christmas.
Michael can't make it. He's got other plans. And for your information, he and I aren't just shagging; we're dating.
Wednesday, February 1, 2017
Fuck, I'm having the worst day ever. Michael wants to break up with me, and two of my best Aurors have gotten the ridiculous notion into their heads that the department needs to strike. I'm going to stop by the apothecary after closing hours, okay?
Oh, and I've got a list of ingredients George Weasley needs, so I'm sending that with the owl. If you have any of these, could you gather them so that I can pick them up later?
Monday, July 31, 2017
Wake up, it's your birthday. I had better be the first one to give you a present (birthday blowjobs from your new boy toy don't count). You have to come downstairs to pick it up, though. I'm waiting by the fence. And hurry the hell up; I have to go open the shop soon.
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
The unannounced visits to my home need to stop, Potter. I think Astoria suspects something. She keeps giving me funny looks.
Friday, August 18, 2017
Why? We're not doing anything wrong. With all due respect, Astoria can go fuck herself if she has a problem with it.
Saturday, August 19, 2017
Potter, don't you dare talk about my wife like that.
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Oh, shut it, Malfoy. Will I see you at King's Cross again on the first?
Sunday, August 27, 2017
Monday, August 28, 2017
Okay, good. I need to see you afterwards. If you're so worried about your wife, I'll meet you by the bathroom.
Saturday, September 2, 2017
You're sleeping beside me as I write this. I wonder if you know just how beautiful you are. Okay, you probably do, but I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I wish you knew how I feel when I look at you, how difficult it's been this past year for me to see you all the time but not be able to touch you... how long I waited for you to finally come around. Except you haven't, really, have you? When you wake up, you're probably going to leap out of bed, throw on your robes, and Disapparate back to your wife, all the while yelling at me for not waking you up earlier.
Which is why I'm writing this letter. I could tell you what I want to your face, but I want you to consider this carefully before giving me an answer, so I'm going to have you take this home and mull over it. That's what you do best, after all.
I love you. I don't know why, because you're a scheming bastard and the world's biggest prat (I feel like I'm back in Hogwarts, insulting you like this), but it's all right, because love is funny like that. It makes someone's bad qualities seem unimportant, and all the little quirks that you hate to love all the more special. And I know you know what I mean, because you love me too, even if you can't stand me sometimes.
Now that we've got our feelings out of the way (you'll notice that I did it for you, since I'm aware that you struggle with expressing yourself truthfully), it's time for you to decide what you're going to do next. You have a choice: divorce your wife, or... well, you know what the other option is. Astoria is a good person, and I won't have you lying to her. I know you don't want to, either.
That's it. Make up your mind. I'll be waiting for your decision, but I don't think I can wait forever - it's been thirteen years already, and we're getting too old to keep dancing around each other.
Friday, September 29, 2017
Come by the shop after work today.
Sunday, October 8, 2017
I know I've said this already, and you're probably already gone by now, but... don't leave. Don't do this again. I want you to stay, and Al will be devastated if Scorpius goes with you.
Thursday, October 12, 2017
I've got to. I'm in too deep; I don't even know myself anymore. I need to get away from here.
Scorpius is staying at Hogwarts.
Friday, May 12, 2023
I can't do this anymore. Six years, and I still think about what you said every night before I fall asleep.
I'm divorcing Astoria. I know I'm too late. No doubt you've found some other bloke by now and moved to the mountains to live a peaceful life with him. I'll probably go back to London, maybe live with my parents for a while, and then... I don't know. Live the distinguished life of a wealthy bachelor? That seems like the only option right now, seeing as I've grown out of club hopping.
You've already done me countless favours, and I'll probably be in debt to you for the rest of my life, but I have one last thing to ask of you. Just tell me you forgive me. That's all I need to know. God, I can't believe I'm begging for your forgiveness. Now I know why Gryffindors are always blithering about. Love really does make fools out of men.
But I'm sorry. I'm sorry for dragging you around for all those years, for lying and pretending you meant nothing to me. "Nothing"... that's a laugh. You meant so much to me that I had to move to fucking France - TWICE - and live amongst sun-tanned Muggles just so I could forget you. Just so I wouldn't be tempted to give up everything for you. Because you've always had that control over me, that ability to make me doubt myself and everything I believe in. And I don't know whether or not that's a good thing.
So that's all I've left to say. Maybe we'll see each other again, maybe we won't. Even if you stopped waiting long ago, I didn't. Now I can.
P.S. I love you. I do.
P.P.S. You're free to burn this after you read it. In fact, I'd prefer you do just that, so no one will ever have evidence of Draco Malfoy's weakest moment.
Draco's hands trembled slightly as he skimmed his fingers across the large, red "RETURN TO SENDER" stamped across the yellowing parchment. He shut his eyes, remembering how he'd felt when the owl had returned with the letter still tied to its leg. Furious. Devastated. Heartbroken. A single tear seeped out from the corner of one closed eyelid and made its way down Draco's wrinkled cheek, leaving a jagged trail that glistened in the dim lighting of the attic.
Draco looked over his shoulder and hastily wiped away the stray tear when he saw his son standing in the doorway, forehead creased with worry.
"I'm sorry. I was just looking through some old letters."
Scorpius's frown softened. "Not again," he said, lifting the candle he held up higher and approaching Draco. He offered a hand to his father. "You're always reading those letters."
"It's hard to let go of the past at my age." Draco took his son's hand and used it to pull himself to his feet, wincing when his joints creaked in protest. "Especially that particular past," he added, casting one last glance at the messy pile of letters in his old school trunk before closing the lid on the trunk with a flick of his wand.
"All these years, and you still haven't told me who your correspondent was," Scorpius said as he and Draco began heading downstairs.
Draco smiled slightly. "I'll tell you when you're old enough."
"I'm nearing fifty, Father. I'd say I reached 'old enough' a few decades ago."
Draco swallowed. "You'll appreciate the letters more if you wait to read them. Every time I reread them, I catch subtle details that I failed to notice before."
Scorpius shook his head incredulously as they neared the bottom of the stores. "I'll never understand you, Father."
Chuckling softly, Draco patted his son's shoulder and followed him into the drawing room of Malfoy Manor.
Two figures were sitting in the ornate armchairs arranged around the glowing fireplace, talking in soft tones. Firelight gleamed off hair as white as Draco's as the older of the two turned around.
"About time," Harry said to Draco and Scorpius, his lined face breaking into a toothy grin.
Albus nodded fervently. "I don't think I can bear to listen to another one of Dad's stories."
Scorpius sat down next to his best friend. "Sorry, we were in the attic."
"Why were you in the attic?" Harry asked as Draco hobbled across the room and gratefully sank into the seat beside Harry.
Draco shot Harry a meaningful look. "I was reading through some old letters."
"Oh, really?" The hand that covered Draco's on the armrest of his chair was all skin and bone, attesting to the years that had passed them by. Draco turned his hand over so that he and Harry were palm-to-palm and entwined their fingers.
"Really. They were fascinating letters - so very well written, or at least half of them were."
"I'm sure," Harry said wryly. He glanced towards Albus and Scorpius, who were arguing over Albus's decision to recruit James's son to the Pride of Portree. Then he turned back to Draco and, in lowered tones, asked, "Did you read all of them?"
"Every one," Draco replied, pleased with the way Harry's eyes lit up. "Even the first few. Did you know you only told me you hated me once?"
"Imagine that. I'm sure I said it to your face a couple of times."
"Most likely," Draco agreed, settling deeper into his chair.
His mind strayed back to the events that had occurred after he sent the last letter. Draco had told Astoria the truth, leaving out the more sordid details, and she had surprisingly been fine with it. Draco's suspicions had been correct - Astoria had known all along. Weeks had passed after they officially ended their marriage, and Harry hadn't replied. Draco had given up hope and begun packing to leave France. Then, a few days before he was set to leave, Harry had appeared on his doorstep.
"I got your letter," he had said, while Draco gripped the doorframe and stared at him dumbly. "I read it and sent it back because I didn't want to burn it, but I knew you'd want to keep it somewhere where it couldn't be found if it wasn't destroyed. And then... I sat and I thought. A part of me wanted you to know that you were a git for thinking I couldn't wait that long, but I also knew that I needed time to make the right choice. I didn't want to rush into another stupid decision. And... I don't think I did."
He hadn't. As far as Draco could tell, Harry had never made a better decision in his life.
Shifting over so that he could lean closer to Harry, Draco whispered, "I love you."
Harry's smile was all the acknowledgment Draco needed.
Will post to other archives as soon as I get back from my next class. Which I'm going to be late for now, so I'll also edit this post when I get back.