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“I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it,” Harry says. Since he had caught Draco crying in the bathroom, they had grown close and it was not out of place for Harry to tell him things like this. Draco was rather worried, there were not very many people Harry would be worried about having a crush on, whoever this mysterious person was, it must be bad. Still, he decides to be brave like a Gryffindor for once and says, “Just rip the bandage off.”

Harry seems to hesitate, this more than anything making Draco doubt whether he wanted to know. Stupidly, he decides to keep moving his big mouth, “I mean, how bad could it be? Me not liking them suggests they’re a Gryffindor, but why would you be worried about that?”

“It’s Voldemort.”

“Okay, nevermind. Put the bandage back on!” Voldemort was, well, Voldemort. How anyone could tolerate him, let alone have a crush on him, was beyond Draco’s imagination. Harry, would be the last person, he would think liked the Dark Lord, he was the CHOSEN ONE for Christ’s sake! He was meant to vanquish Voldemort, not have some insane enemies to romance with him.

“I know, it’s horrible, I mean, he killed my parents, I’m meant to kill him, but he’s just so hot, and so is murder, so help me God.” Well at least he realised that it would never work out, he wasn’t so blinded by love. This could turn into a problem, if Harry Potter was found to be having any sort of positive emotion towards the Dark Lord, he’d be labelled a traitor and sent to Azkaban. Oh well, Draco had lived without him once before, he just had to keep the bandage on for the time being.

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He didn’t know how it had happened but somehow he was stuck in the past with Harry freaking Potter and sharing a dorm with the young Dark Lord Voldemort, currently Tom Marvolo Riddle. They hadn’t meant to fall through a mysterious magic mirror but then again, if he wanted things to go to plan, he shouldn’t have involved Potter. The two of them had been there for about two weeks when Harry said, completely out of the blue, “I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it.”

Draco was, well, shocked. They had not even been here a month, who could Potter possibly be crushing on? With this thought in mind he suggested, “Just rip the bandage off.”

Potter takes him up on his offer and simply says, “It’s Voldemort,” as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Of course, the look on Draco’s face clearly says what he’s thinking, so the other boy keeps talking, trying ,and failing, to calm him down. “Yes, I know he killed my parents, and terrorised the Wizarding World for decades, and he’s been trying to kill me since I was a baby, and-”

“Technically, he hasn’t done any of that yet, and who knows, maybe you being in love with him is just what he needs to not do it.”

Harry jumps, “In love? I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, it’s just a crush, he doesn’t even like me, why would he? He’s perfect, and I’m.. me.”

He looks so pitiful that Draco can’t help but try to reassure him, which he immediately regrets. “I’m sure he.. respects.. you. Besides, you have many positive qualities, I’m sure you could woo him with your parseltongue and magical talents.”

“Aw Draco, you think I have woo-the-dark-lord-worthy magical talents? But in all seriousness, you may just be right, maybe he could like me.” This was a terrible idea.

“Nevermind. Put the bandage back on, PUT THE BANDAGE BACK ON!”

Chapter Text

“Self care is actually getting into fights with random death eaters in dark alleys,” Harry says, out of the blue, one day when the three of them are hanging out.

-

Harry punches a masked death eater in the face again, enjoying the blood running down from his chin. He hadn’t meant to get violent but, the other man had said something rude about muggleborns and Harry hadn’t even noticed it before he had dragged him in between two buildings. It was pretty straight forward from that point, he hit Harry, Harry hit him back and they both understood that it was nothing personal.

Once Harry felt the death eater had learnt his lesson, or at least had sworn to never say ‘mudblood’ in Harry’s presence (what more could he ask for), he let go of his arm and walked out of the dirty alley and they both went their separate ways, Harry going home, the death eater most likely going to the Dark Lord’s manor to discuss their plans of overthrowing the government. Harry felt great.

-

“I’ll have you know, those ‘random death eaters’ are my faithful followers, brat.”

Draco, completely ignoring the Dark Lord, just responded, “No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath-

-

He leaned his head back against the edge of the tub and took a long relaxing breath. He could do this all day, Draco thought contentedly. However, when the bubbles tried to go up his nose, he was forced to sit up and let go of complete bliss. Still, he thought, this was nice, it smelled nice, it felt nice, it was perfect.

A little over an hour had passed before he forced himself to get out and prepare to face the day.

-

“Or putting on a lot of make-up if you like it-

-

After he had given up on spending the rest of his life in a bubble bath, he figured he should do something productive, like paint his face. He took all the make-up he had, which was not enough despite the fact he was rich, and a couple brushes and began making himself pretty.

He was finally done, his lips red, his eyes outlined with black, and somehow glitter had found its way onto his face, how he did not know.

-

“Or taking a nice warm nap!”

-

It had been a long day and Draco was very much looking forward to just lying down and doing nothing at all. No death eater meetings, no, mostly false, hostility directed at the Boy Who Lived, just nothing. He lay his head down on the pillow and was out like a light. Life was hard but if he could end every day like this, he thought it might be worth it.

-

“Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!!” Voldemort was a little over enthusiastic, both Harry and Draco agreed. Harry thought he was being a bit dramatic, but he didn’t dare say anything to anger the precious dark lord.

-

There were days when Tom (as he liked to call himself at least in his head though he would never admit it) was incredibly glad that he had chosen to become the most feared man in magical Britain. It was fun, seeing people cower in fear, knowing that he could kill every one of them without even trying, murder was fun, and he didn’t care how wrong people thought that was.

Most of all, he enjoyed attacking the ministry and, on the rare occasion that he left Hogwarts, Dumbledore, supposedly the only wizard he ever feared. A load of rubbish if you asked him, Dumbledore may be powerful, but compared to him he was nothing. Oh how fun life was.

-

It was clear no one was taking this seriously anymore, not after Voldemort's show of insanity, this was made clear when Draco said, “Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting,” and Harry, taking that as a threat, replied, “If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands,” wish led the two of them into an intense fake fight about a fake cake.

None of the three men understood why they were hanging out with each other, Harry and Voldemort were sworn enemies, Draco was Harry’s rival and had been forced to take Voldemort’s mark, but it was fun and God knew they could all use a bit of fun in their lives.

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Harry and Draco had never really gotten along. They were rivals in school and if asked would both say they hated the other. This, naturally, didn’t stop either from harbouring a ‘secret’ crush on each other for the whole seven years they were there. (‘Secret’ because you would have to be blind not to see the pining between the idiots.) Draco honestly didn’t know how he had managed to get Harry to date him but it was the biggest accomplishment of his life.

The way Draco saw it, there was no reason why Harry should care about him, he was mean, and messy, and struggling, and Harry was perfect in every way. Harry didn’t seem to care that Draco didn’t simply have problems, he was one, and Draco dreaded the day when Harry would realise he wasn’t worth it. That day had not yet come. Still, it wasn’t like Harry ignored every bad thing about him, he had tried to get him to be nicer, and when Draco had failed, and kept failing, fearing Harry would finally abandon him, he had simply kept trying and never once gave up on him.

Harry told the story differently. If you asked him now, he would tell you that Draco was perfect despite his flaws. Yes, he could be unkind at times, but he was working on it. He hadn’t done so well yet, that was all.

So when a man whose name was apparently ‘Voldemort’ broke into their house in the middle of the night, Harry expected Draco to start a fight, especially since for once he had a reason. Instead, once the noise had stopped and he had deemed it safe to go downstairs, he came out of the room to see the stranger sitting on the sofa, looking at home in their living room. He didn’t seem to be a threat so, once he had made sure he wouldn’t be attacked, he continued his search for his husband into the kitchen where Draco was performing what looked like the process of making a cup of tea.

This didn’t sit right with Harry, what the hell was going on?! “What the hell are you doing?!” the words burst out without his permission.

“Making a cup of tea..?” Draco sounded genuinely surprised, which made no sense. Had he forgotten there was a stranger in their house? A stranger who had broken into the house in the middle of the night, for Christ’s sake!

“For Voldemort?!

“You told me to be friendlier.” Because that cleared it all up.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

His husband just looked at him. “What, am I too friendly for you?” he said with absolute seriousness.

As if the whole situation wasn’t already completely bonkers, Voldemort called out, “Two sugars, please.” To which Draco replied, “Coming right up!”

Chapter Text

The people who met Draco were occasionally worried about his mental state. Harry didn’t blame them. Yes, Draco was his friend, but even he could admit that the man sometimes had rather strange opinions about what kind of behaviour classified as a ‘good idea’. This meant that often he would go along with things, no matter how crazy, because the alternative was no doubt worse. However, when Draco invited Voldemort to their next hangout, Harry was truly at the end of his patience.

He went along with it, as he always did, afraid of what Draco could come up with to top this. When they arrived at their favourite ice-cream shop and Harry saw the Dark Lord waiting for them at a table, looking like he was meant to be there and disguised as his younger self, he could not believe that Draco had been completely serious as usual. Voldemort was, surprisingly, quite fun to hang out with, once you got past the whole ‘He murdered my parents’ thing. By the time they were leaving, Harry had almost started to consider the man a friend, which was absolutely ridiculous.

The three not-quite-friends-yet stood up and were preparing to part ways when, out of the blue, Draco asked, “Hey, Voldemort, are you free on Friday? Like around eight?”

Harry assumed, understandably, that he was asking if Voldemort would hang out with them again, an idea which Harry, for once, was on board with.

“Yeah,” Voldemort replied, which made Harry’s heart flutter in a very strange way.

“And you, Harry,” asked Draco, which confused him. Draco never asked if someone was free at any given time, the only reason he had done so with Voldemort was because he wasn’t looking to be murdered by the man.

“Um.. yes?”

Draco smiled, mysteriously, in a way that usually scared Harry. “Great! Because I'm not. You two go out without me. Enjoy your date!”

“Did they just-”

“I think they did,” Voldemort said with a smile, “so, I’ll see you on Friday, around eight.”

Harry stood shocked as the man walked away. Had that just happened? It had. And Harry found he was actually looking forward to the date.

Chapter Text

Harry and Draco were relaxing on the sofa watching some sort of cooking show on the TV when suddenly there was a loud knocking– banging– on the front door. Draco startled and jumped up off the sofa. Harry, knowing who it was, remained calm. Well, as calm as possible when you are aware of the fact that your front porch is currently harbouring a homicidal maniac.

“Who is that?!”

“I invited someone,” Harry spoke elusively.

“Who!”

“Umm…”

“Fine, I’ll go see who it is.”

Panicking, Harry exclaimed, “It’s Voldemort. My old arch enemy.”

That successfully distracted Draco from the knocking on the door as he turned his head towards Harry in betrayal. Harry was confused until Draco said, “I thought I was your arch enemy..” in a small voice. Harry felt a sudden urge to hug his boyfriend, even if that was a strange thing to get upset about.

“You are, Draco. You’re very special to me, I wouldn’t replace you with Voldemort, but.. I do have a life outside of you.”

“Wait!”

The loud knocking repeated.

“You invited WHO to our house?!”

Homicidal maniacs clearly do not care about rules of propriety since at that moment the door banged open to reveal a surprisingly joyful looking Voldemort on the porch. Draco shrieked and stumbled around a polite greeting of, “Voldemort, welcome..”

Harry skipped past him and embraced the man in a hug. “Tom, it’s so good to see you again.”

“You too, Harry dear.”

Chapter Text

Back at Hogwarts, Harry never would have imagined that someday he would be here, walking through a muggle park with Draco Malfoy. After graduating, they had bumped into each other at the Ministry and agreed that their years of rivalry were a wasted opportunity and that they should hang out sometime. They now met up at least once a week.

The park was filled with all sorts of wonders: swans gliding across the lake, the water reflecting the sun like a disco ball; children laughing and running away from their parents, enjoying a carefree existence before the world caught up to them; and the biggest wonder of all was Harry Potter, walking next to a Slytherin, for once enjoying life. They were surrounded by green, breathing in the fresh air and admiring the flowers, the insects buzzing around, the power of nature staring down at them.

One particular flower stuck out to Harry as it always had: the dandelion. It reminded him a bit of himself, before he went to Hogwarts, always underestimated and misunderstood. He turned to Draco and said, “Dandelions symbolise everything I want to be in life.”

The blond appeared confused and slightly concerned. “Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?” he asked.

Torn between amusement and offence, Harry snorted lightly, clearly Draco didn’t realise how amazing dandelions were and it was his duty to remind the man, lest he be allowed to go on being so fundamentally wrong about the world.

As he opened his mouth to correct Malfoy, the air moved around them, ever so slightly, gentle enough that neither of the noticed but if they had they would now be aware of someone listening to their conversation. As it was, Harry responded to Draco without a second thought, “Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.”

A voice spoke that neither of them recognised, “Edible,” it said. A man had appeared next to them, tall and pale with seemingly bright red eyes. Those eyes were glowing as he asked them, “Would either of you gentlemen care for some dandelion soup?”

Thinking it unlikely that a stranger would be waiting for this very conversation to happen as an excuse to poison someone, Draco and Harry briefly glanced at one another and took it as a harmless coincidence. They accepted the container of soup.

“It’s delicious,” Harry told the mysterious man, after taking a bite.

“What’s the meat,” Draco queried.

“It’s… dandelion. I own a restaurant down the street from here, we serve all sorts of dishes. I can assure you many of them are very passionate about being edible plants.”