Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

July 1999

Harry ascends the two marble steps at the entrance of the manor and knocks softly on one of the large double doors with the clenched fingers of his hand, cold and stiff from the rainy weather. He's half-expecting a tiny house elf to greet him shortly at the door. But no one answers him.

After a few minutes of loud knocking, Harry seems to lose his patience. He abruptly stops rapping his bruised knuckles on the hard surface of the door and instead uses a burst of magic to open and undo the locks.

With the swift motion of his thumb, Harry wandlessly twists the gnarled iron handle at the front of the double doors, an ugly-looking black object that is predictably shaped like two snakes tightly pressed and coiled together.

The imposing entrance of the manor opens with a loud creak that seems to last forever.

Harry cringes slightly at the grating sound before he forces his way past the many wards that surround the inner stone perimeters of the large stately home.

The strong protective charms of the manor only seem to wrap themselves around him and the exposed skin of his ankles as they slowly take in his presence. They let him enter the main hall which is filled with dust and the crumbled arms and legs of some statues.

The house appears to be devoid of life and deserted when Harry steps inside the vast foyer that greets him on the ground floor of the ancestral home. He makes his way across the drawing room on the left, where he knows a brilliant crystal chandelier used to hang from the vaulted ceiling near the small hidden nook with the narrow entrance and the stairs that lead to the dark cellar underground. Harry deftly avoids looking at it as he walks by it and leaves the large drawing room through the arched entrance on the other side of the parlor.

"Malfoy?" Harry calls out tentatively, before stopping at the bottom of the curved wooden staircase next to the pastel-colored wall of the much smaller morning room.

Harry gets no answer in response to the sound of his voice, so he immediately starts to think that maybe he’s too late or that perhaps Malfoy is away somewhere. Although, technically, that shouldn't be possible since the blonde's house arrest sentence is only supposed to be lifted at the very end of today.

Which is why Harry is here in the first place. He’d hesitated for a long time about doing this, before he finally made up his own mind and decided that he would show up in person to return the hawthorn wand he had kindly ‘borrowed’ from his rival the year prior to fight and end Voldemort.

Today might be the last day during which Harry is able to return it to Draco Malfoy. So he can’t delay any longer.

At exactly midnight tonight, the blonde ex-con will be free to go anywhere. To leave and finally set foot outside of this dreadful house, and then perhaps never come back to Great Britain at all. Who knows?

Harry heard rumors that Draco plans to donate the Malfoy Manor to the ministry as a form of self-imposed war reparations to atone for what he has done during his time in Hogwarts. Plans are to turn the manor into a free museum and a war memorial dedicated to the young victims and war heroes who bravely withstood Voldemort's reign.

But to Harry, who slowly crosses the decaying plants and flowerless vines clinging to the cracked windows of the conservatory found on the ground floor of the manor, the massive stately home feels more like a mausoleum rather than a place where people would want to live in or visit in their spare time, even free of charge.

If he were in Malfoy's place, Harry is not sure he would want to stay here for a long period of time after everything they went through to survive and fight in a war their parents had started many years ago, before they were even born or old enough to decide which side was the right one to follow and support with true conviction. In the end, everything that happened to them from the start occurred mainly as a result of the existence of a noseless mad-man who was clearly hell-bent on destroying everything that stood in his way, including himself and his followers, just to fulfill his endless quest and dream to become the most powerful and feared wizard in the world. So stupid and pointless, right?

And yet, here they are, still facing the consequences. Unable to truly move on.

Frowning, Harry carefully observes the faint traces of grief, despair and dark magic etched into the surface of every wall he sees in the moonlit gallery at the back of the conservatory. There's a small winter garden room in a domed section on his left, but it looks too dark and cursed to go in. So instead, Harry heads straight towards the bright circlet of the crescent moon which he spots through the windowed wall on the other side of the greenhouse.

Narcissa's portrait hangs crookedly on the wall facing the rose garden. Her placid eyes stare ahead at the desolate state of her flowers near the empty pool and the fountains. The pale woman sighs, her icy blue eyes turning slightly glassy in the silver light of the moon beaming down in her garden. But then, as if suddenly aware of Harry's presence, the regal witch in the painting peers down from her gilded frame and smiles at him in an odd manner when she catches him glancing at her portrait.

“I remember you.”

Harry jumps back with a slight jolt of shock and unease prickling the skin of his neck before he finally forces himself to avert his eyes from the eerie ghost of a smile that curves the soft pink line of her lips.

“Sorry to disturb. I’m just looking for Malfoy.”

“Upstairs,” Narcissa murmurs with a cryptic look in her eyes.

She doesn't say anything to him beyond that, no single reproach or cruel insult, which Harry can admit he is grateful for. He's always felt uneasy about portraits who can talk to him in this way. They remind him too much of the Mirror of Erised he saw in his first year at Hogwarts. To him, magical portraits are cursed objects that seem so real but are only ever just a figment of a dream or an illusion of something that could never be.

Harry knows that the painting of Narcissa's likeness was commissioned a year prior to her death, which she seems to have predicted. Her sudden passing occurred just before Lucius was sentenced to be Kissed at the very beginning of the trials. Her thin body was cremated along with her husband’s corpse which had been left at the ministry with a pile of others.

No one attended their joint funerals. No one cared. The only one who could have done so was locked inside of a damp cell, deep under the stony structure of Azkaban. The muted sound of Malfoy's grief and sorrow upon receiving the news of their passing was probably drowned out by the ruthless waves that crashed against the jagged rocks of the North Sea. Never to be known by anyone but himself and the wet grey walls that surrounded the space of his cell.

Everywhere in Britain, it was the season of funerals and rebuilding.

Why should people care about a Death Eater’s pain?

Malfoy's loss was not special in any way. Some even believed and said he deserved it.

Summer that year was a difficult period for everyone who had been involved in the war.

Grief made people cruel and bitter towards the Death Eaters who survived. It gave birth to new grudges too. More hatred and malice could be felt rising everywhere in the wizarding world.

Harry couldn't wait for it to be over.

Next came Draco Malfoy's own trial, which Harry personally had testified for. It was the least he could do, he had thought, his whole body still thrumming with the last vestiges of his insomnia and the pulsing waves of his growing magic. Even though Narcissa was no longer here to accept the life debt Harry was fulfilling by doing this for the sake of her precious son, it was still the right thing to do, he knew, deep down in his core.

[Is he alive? Draco, is he alive?]

Sometimes, at night, in one of the tamest versions of the nightmares he often gets about the war, Harry's mind continuously loops and replays that scene for him, with the nebulous sepia-toned quality of diving past the broken edge of a Pensieve.

In the wisp of that memory, Harry breathes mutely on the muddy soil of the forest, his skinny back pressed against the damp leaves underneath his shirt.

There is the cold, distinct voice of Voldemort in the distance, followed by someone moving towards him. Harry forces himself to keep his eyes closed when he picks up the soft footsteps of the witch who kneels beside him.

'I'm going to die,' Harry thinks. Even though he already did.

Through the faint flutter of his lashes, Harry catches a glimpse of Narcissa's face as she leans over him in the forest. Something in her expression looks odd and off-kilter. Harry gets no time to analyze it. He squeezes his eyes shut again and forces himself to not move any of his limbs.

Soft fingers creep over his heart, pretending to look for a pulse. Harry tries his best to stay still, but he knows the frantic pounding of his heart betrays him.

Pleasepleaseplease, Harry silently begs and prays to no one in particular, from within the red-tinged darkness of the tense eyelids which are blocking his vision.

Narcissa's breathing quickens above him when she feels the steady thrum of life in his chest. Her long wavy hair tickles the side of Harry's face as she bends over his body, shielding them from onlookers. Their eyes meet for a second with a flash of understanding, just before Harry hears the shaky sound of her voice in his ear, asking him the very question that perhaps turned the tide of the war.

Harry feels himself nodding minutely, his cold limbs stiffening with dread as the pale woman slowly rises from the ground of the forest to face Voldemort behind them.

If he's lucky, Harry wakes up from that dream in a cold sweat, still shaking from the last remnant of her voice and warm breath caressing the skin of his cheek.

[He is dead.]

With that small heavy lie, another mother defied the Dark Lord, proving to everyone that he was wrong.

Hatred and fear can never win over someone's love.

Forcefully pulling his eyes away from the pale features of the now-deceased woman who risked everything for her son, Harry hears a noise in the manor.

It’s coming from the ceiling— a soft tinkling note that seems to reverberate from the floor right above this room.

Perking his ears at the sound, Harry immediately follows it out of instinct. He nearly trips on his own two feet in his rush to ascend the stone steps of the curved staircase leading to the first floor of the empty manor.

Not so empty, Harry thinks with a slight frown as he picks up the same tinkling sound he heard before near the garden. It is once again being played, only this time much closer and clearer than before.

It’s music, Harry belatedly realizes as he crosses another gallery.

Or perhaps the sound of a piano…

Harry is pleased to discover that he was right about his assumption when he finally pushes open the door of a large study, which also seems to be used as a piano room by the last heir and occupant of the manor. He finds Draco sitting there behind a large instrument.

“Potter.” Draco looks up at him with the sudden jolt of his shoulders and his head turning towards him, his face bloodless and startled.

“Hello, Malfoy.” Harry greets the blonde as he steps closer to the piano, his scarred hand absently brushing the embroidered stars of the tapestry on the wall. “Has this room always been yours? It feels a bit different than the others I’ve seen downstairs in the manor.”

Draco narrows his eyes on him with suspicion. “What are you doing here?”

”Didn’t you feel me coming through the wards?”

”Clearly, I didn’t.” Draco frowns, still looking a bit shaken and disturbed by his sudden appearance in the manor. ”I was busy with a new composition, as you can see, and I wasn't expecting any visitors besides my parole officer today.”

“I didn’t know you played the piano.” Harry broadly gestures at the large gold-trimmed instrument behind which Malfoy sits primly on a bench, his pale hands resting on his thighs.

“There’s not much to do here,” Draco vaguely explains as he peers down at the monochrome keys behind him, which is not really an answer.

Harry sighs before roughly digging inside the loose pocket of his grey coat and stretching his hand out towards the other. “I came here to give you this.”

“Why? What’s this?” Draco eyes the box suspiciously, before Harry sees something like hope fog over his stormy grey eyes. But then, the blonde blinks his long lashes down over his ivory cheeks, immediately clearing the raw cloud of emotions from his face, as though it had only been a mirage.

“It’s yours,” Harry says while opening the special case he had built for the hawthorn wand.

Malfoy glances at him warily before he reaches for it in the box. His long fingers tentatively pluck it from the satin casing, the smooth fabric inside a dark red color. It rustles underneath his hand as Malfoy jostles it from within the box.

Mesmerized, Harry can’t help but watch in silence as the blonde wraps his palm around his old wand. He carefully observes the way Draco flexes his long fingers around the thin girth of the wooden stick, before suddenly raising it above him and casting a bright Lumos from the tip.

The corners of Draco’s lips twitch upwards slightly, something soft and vulnerable, as he then conjures a pair of blue birds which circle wildly around Harry’s head before using their small beak to nip at the thick nest of his black hair. The two lovebirds disappear in a soft burst of pale feathers just as Harry looks down from their wings and catches the ghost of a smile forming on the other’s lips.

Gingerly, Harry moves to place the box he made for the hawthorn wand on the white surface of the piano.

In the rounded corner near the black-and-white keys of the large instrument in the study, Harry spots a small notebook with a folded stack of music sheets bursting from the edges of the paper.

Frowning, Harry narrows his eyes on the notebook until he can almost make out the last three letters of a word written on one of the pages. While Malfoy looks distracted by the familiar feel of his hawthorn wand, Harry leans over the small piano bench and subtly tries to move a bit closer to get a better look at what the sheet says.

En…

End?

Just as he’s about to decipher the first letter of that word, Malfoy clears his throat behind him in a loud and blatant manner, forcing him to tear his eyes away from the creased corner of the page.

When Harry peers back up at Malfoy, the blonde is once again staring at his pale hand, which he gently drops with the wand to rest on top of his knees.

“You could have sent it by Owl,” Draco eventually says, which is the last thing Harry expected to hear from him. Although maybe he should have seen this coming from someone logical like Malfoy, since it indeed would have made a lot more sense for Harry to do it that way, rather than him coming all the way here, uninvited and unannounced in a place they both hated, just to return the hawthorn wand he had stolen last year from his rival.

"What are you going to do now?" Harry asks, desperate to change the subject.

“I don't know.” Draco shrugs, which is so unlike him that Harry inadvertently forgets where he is and gets distracted by the sight of his collarbone.

Draco notices him staring at the faint curse scars on his pale skin, so he frowns downward at his chest and quickly pulls the sleeve of his loose shirt back over the slender curve of his shoulder.

Draco's hair is a bit longer than it had been at the end of his trial. The loose tousled waves framing his pallid cheeks now reach the dip and jut of his collarbones. The milky shade and texture of the blonde strands also look incredibly pale and soft under the dim glow of the two candles that illuminate the space of the room. The way the light coming from the twin flames smoothly glides over Malfoy’s arms and gently traces the side of his pale face reminds Harry of a painting he once saw in a book. He can't remember which one it was, though…

"What about you?” Draco suddenly asks, putting a firm stop to the derailing train of Harry's wild thoughts.

“Er…I think I might just-“

"Wait, no. Let me guess.” Malfoy cuts him off with a familiar smirk curling on his lips. ”Auror training, right? With two different Weasleys as your partners, one strictly for work and drinks at the Leaky after hours, while the other one, the She-Weasel, warms the sheets of your marriage bed. It's what everybody expects for you, isn't it? The next step for the saviour. I can already see the Daily Prophet headlines and the pictures of you briskly waltzing across the Ministry atrium in your red Auror robes with a handcuffed criminal at your side. The hero saves the day!”

“I'm not doing it because of that,” Harry says through gritted teeth.

For a moment, he'd forgotten who Malfoy was at his very core. Someone like him will never change, Harry thinks bitterly. But maybe it’s better that way…

“Well, good luck with that, Potter.” Malfoy turns to place his wand on the corner of the piano.

“Thanks,” Harry says, his tone devoid of enthusiasm. He watches Malfoy slip the hawthorn wand on top of his small notebook before the blonde turns back towards him again with a raised eyebrow.

“Now if you don't mind, I'd like to finish the song I was practicing earlier.”

Harry gets the hint and sighs, turning back to leave the manor.

“See you around, Malfoy.”

He hears Malfoy mutter something that sounds oddly close to ‘unlikely’, but maybe he just imagined it. Either way, Harry is done here. It’s over. The life debt has been fulfilled. It’s the last time they’ll ever see or speak to each other.

(Hopefully.)

Harry stomps away from the blonde and steps inside the large fireplace he spotted earlier on the other side of the piano room.

“Hope you have a good life,” Harry spits, a fistful of ash tightly clenched inside the clammy palm of his hand.

“Goodbye, Potter,” Draco says with finality, his pointy chin lifting in the haughty manner that always made Harry’s blood boil in Hogwarts.

Harry sees Malfoy staring at him through the bright emerald green flames of the Floo as he quickly calls the name of his destination and prepares to go back to Grimmauld Place. Malfoy’s lips part to say something before he closes his mouth firmly and decides not to. The grey dust and ashes from the hearth hide the blonde from his vision. Harry finds himself surrounded by a dizzying tunnel of darkness, which only lasts for a moment.

Abruptly thrust back home, Harry stumbles out from the Floo in the living room of Grimmauld Place and falls face-first on the dusty carpet in front of the checkered couch he received as a gift last summer. He blinks down at the deep nail indents he accidentally made inside of his palm when he grabbed the Floo powder in the manor and suddenly wishes he’d stayed behind with Malfoy for a few seconds longer, or at least talked things out with him.

Maybe then he wouldn’t be feeling so heavy or like he’d left things unresolved between them.

The complicated expression Harry glimpsed on Malfoy’s pale face as he left the manor that day stays on his mind for the rest of the night. It haunts him in the week that comes after the end of Malfoy’s house-arrest sentence and keeps surging back through his brain right until Harry goes to bed in the evening.

Like a vengeful ghost clinging to his soul, the faint memory of that day intermittently returns to the forefront of his mind in the months that follow their strange parting. It takes residence inside him like a persistent itch he can’t scratch, making his skin feel like it’s burning from inside out.

Every single night, Harry squeezes his eyes shut in the pitch-black darkness of his bedroom and forcefully suppresses the odd feeling in his chest by thinking of other tasks he has to do now that there’s no longer a prophecy to guide him towards his doom. With the sound of a shaky breath, Harry wraps his arms around Ginny’s waist and slowly sinks back into the familiar creeping, coldness of the memories from the war he can’t shake.

It’s better this way, he repeats to himself again and again until the words lose all meaning and fade away to get replaced by the vivid images of a nightmare.

Chapter Text

Rising Star: Draco Malfoy Has Waited His Whole Life For This Second Chance (March 3, 2001 – Time Magazine)

Draco Malfoy may appear to have materialized from nowhere as a fully formed, dazzling pop star, but he has slowly been working his way to the top since the end of his high school years, which he spent in a boarding school.

Growing up in Wiltshire, South West England, Draco admits to being somewhat sheltered as a child. “I know I grew up privileged, compared to a lot of my peers. I was a complete git growing up, as you can probably imagine! I truly was the worst kind of child to know or have as a friend,” the singer-songwriter candidly confesses during our interview. “I thought I knew everything. But then, the sudden death of both of my parents, which happened around the same time, really put things in perspective for me. I needed to change my ways, I realized.”

“After spending a whole year all alone with my piano, I left my childhood home behind and all my old beliefs as well, in order to start over somewhere else, as a new person. I wouldn't have been able to thrive as an artist if I’d stayed behind in England.”

Draco Malfoy’s big break came at the age of 20, when he signed with his current label, Winkel Records, right after getting booked for his first role in Miki Kaworu's music video. “I was really lucky to meet Miki, at that time,” the singer recalls with a smile. “He really loved my blonde hair.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Draco Malfoy on the Radical Honesty of His New Album, ‘Owls I Can’t Send’ (February 17, 2002 – Vogue Magazine)

On the cover of Draco Malfoy’s new album, Owls I Can’t Send, the musician and actor sits on a large canopy bed in a loose-fitting babydoll dress next to a pile of unsent letters, his delicate chin turning towards the camera as though interrupted or caught in the act by someone else.

We still have no clue where the supposed “owl” comes from in the title, but many fans theorized that Draco uses the famous nocturnal bird as a code for the so-called “unsent letters”, which are clearly spread out on the bed we see in the picture.

After listening to the whole album back-to-back as part of our exclusive interview with the singer, it does seem that Draco’s fans were right once again with their strange theories!

Many of the lyrics found in the ten songs of Draco’s new album actually begin and end with salutations and sign-offs, reflecting the typical structure of the titular “owls/letters” that Malfoy apparently started writing as a form of therapy during one of the hardest periods of his life which he now calls “his house-arrest sentence”, making the songs of this record by far the most honest and intimate we have seen from him yet, something many of his fans are bound to appreciate.

“I wanted to come clean to others about who I was and what I had done,” says Malfoy about the songs he composed for his latest album. “But as many others—and all the unsent letters that are seen on the bed of my album cover—would attest, I was a coward to the very end.”

There’s bravery in being honest, even if it’s just with yourself. Regardless of what the famous singer thinks of himself and his checkered past, many of his fans across the globe will soon be able to hear the lovely sound of the so-called “owls” Draco couldn’t send to others during the hardest period of his life.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The 2000s: The Rise and Fall of the Sad Man 'Meme' (April 9, 2002 – Witch Weekly)

It began with Sad and Mad Sirius Black, but Harry Potter perfected the form.

The wizarding world will never forget the iconic cover of the Daily Prophet that announced the by now famous escape of the ‘Prisoner of Azkaban’. Historians now claim that the sight of that very picture, which came out in 1993, became one of the marking events that profoundly shaped the life of the Boy-Who-Lived while he was a student in Hogwarts.

Perhaps, it also shaped his future too, in ways which even Harry Potter’s beloved godfather (bless his soul) would have never been able to predict. It seems that both he and Harry Potter are destined to look miserable. Here is the proof you’ve been looking for, in high-definition:

(Tap here twice with your finger to see our exclusive close-up shots of Harry Potter → [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] ←)

In this first picture, Harry Potter is sad in a Muggle car. In this second one, he is sad while giving a speech at a ministry function, which he attended to collect funds for War Orphans. Here, Harry is sad smoking a cigarette with his girlfriend, Ginny Weasley. He is sad while jogging in a pair of too tight shorts. He is sad eating a pistachio ice cream. He is sad tying his shoelaces.

In every picture we see of him in the papers, Potter can be found “scowling through the pain of existence,” a fitting description penned by Witch Weekly’s editor-in-chief, the brilliant Romilda Vane.

(Bonus shots of the Boy-Who-Lived for our special subscribers → [1] [2] ←)

Potter is sad at his best friend’s wedding even. He’s always the one person in the room who has nothing to smile about.

It’s tragic. It’s sad. It’s the life of our hero, the vanquisher of dark wizards and rogue criminals.

Somebody even superimposed the latest hit of the pop star Draco Malfoy (an acoustic ballad titled “Shadows” – more information about the new single release on page 9) over a Wiztok reel of Harry Potter sitting on a bench in the park with his three-year-old godson, Teddy Lupin.
They even went so far as to zooming in closely on the man’s tired face as his thoughts appear to turn inward and much darker. It’s honestly devastating.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Draco Malfoy, Superstar (July 1, 2003 – Paper Magazine)

This past June, Malfoy secured his first No. 1 hit with the melancholic break-up song, “Almost Love”. His previous single, the contemplative, slow-paced ballad “Shadows”, peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard charts just a few days after, making the 23-year-old singer the first solo artist in chart history to have two simultaneous top-three hits.

This staggering feat in Malfoy’s career came about in the very same month he and his fans celebrated his birthday and the long-awaited release of his third album ‘Singular’.

“I do believe in divine timing and karma, I always have,” Malfoy says to us in his posh accent as he takes a small moment to sip on his English tea and reflect on his growing fame and his latest success in the music industry.

“Sometimes, the stars align for you just right and you hit a small lucky streak. I did, I know. I’m lucky and blessed to be where I am today. I’m also very grateful to my fans. But as many of them know, I wouldn’t be here without all of my hard work and the dedication I feel for my craft. It’s hard to stay true to yourself in an industry that is so cut-throat and always obsessed with the numbers. I had to fight off a lot of voices and opinions at the beginning of my journey as a singer. People who thought (and still think) that I shouldn’t dress the way I do. Others who feel I don’t even deserve the fans I have now, since I’m a horrible person who can’t change, according to them. But I have changed and I also dress the way I do because it’s who I am now. I don’t care what they say. I’m here to stay and I still have a lot to offer and show the world with my music.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Danger or Saviour? (July 26, 2003 – The Daily Prophet)

After the violent werewolf attack which occurred last May in an isolated park in Central London ended his life as we know it, Harry Potter quit the Aurors and completely isolated himself from the public sphere. Perhaps he did so out of shame and disgust at himself and his new condition. It all remains hazy and unclear, at best. His friends, and our brave reporters at the Prophet, can only hypothesize about what really happened to him since that day and put themselves in his shoes.

Gawain Robards, the current Head of the Auror Department, is still adamant that the hero’s newly acquired creature-status played no role in his dismissal from the team of Aurors who work for him in the DMLE.

When asked if Potter had been forced to resign, the war hero, Ron Weasley, who was also his Auror partner at the time, glared at us and then refused to give a comment.

Is the Boy-Who-Lived dangerous?

Experts on shapeshifting creature behavior and the history of lycanthropy weigh in on the serious issue which has completely destroyed the life of our hero. (Read more on the subject in our ten-page investigative report, starting on page 4.)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The Draco Malfoy Effect (August 22, 2004 - Witch Weekly)

The blonde bombshell reformed criminal has recently hit the stage for his Europe tour and has become a mega-success with his fans, ever since the release of his debut album, ’Eyes Wide Open’, thanks in part to his snarky sense of humour and otherworldly Veela-esque good looks, which often bring his fun upbeat songs to life, according to the critics.

Who is the mysterious and magnetic half-veela singer we all keep hearing on the wireless? And what has Draco Malfoy become since the end of the war? Why is he suddenly so popular with the Muggles? Read more on page 6 to find out!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Harry Potter is Too Good For This World (October 13, 2004 - Witch Weekly)

Though we’ve spent more than two decades following Potter’s heroics, we still know little about him. We all know that he was born on the 31st day of July in 1980, at Godric's Hollow in the West Country of England, only hours after his future classmate Neville Longbottom. Harry Potter shares both English and South Asian ancestry. His father was a famous trouble-maker at school and a pure-blood wizard from a respectable low-key family, while his mother (who we all know he gets his eyes from!) was born in a family of Muggles. We’re all aware of the fact that Harry Potter defeated Voldemort in 1998 and that he used to play the position of Seeker for the Quidditch team of House Gryffindor when he was still a boy in Hogwarts.

But now, his new life is completely shrouded in mystery. What is his next big plan? What will happen now that his girlfriend broke his heart upon learning of his dreadful creature status? Is he still single and out looking for ‘the one’?

We are all waiting to find out!

(Contact us by using our exclusive Bachelor Hotline at 45-3247-900 or simply send us an Express Owl in our South London office if you come across any pertinent photograph of Harry Potter or if you hear any information about him.)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Draco Malfoy to Critics Shaming His Sexual Openness: ‘Don’t Come to the Show’ (July 7, 2005 – Rolling Stone Magazine)

“I don’t get those people at all,” Malfoy said to Vogue in a recent interview. “My songs aren’t for kids. Anyone with brains or common sense should know this about me and my music. Yes, I love wearing revealing lingerie on stage. Yes, I’m shameless and I often write songs about sex. I’m a living, breathing, legal adult. So I don’t see how it’s such a big deal for me to explore those kinds of topics or get a bit saucy when I’m performing in front of my fans. If parents get offended by that, then they shouldn’t bring their kids to my shows.”

Last month, Malfoy embarked on the first leg of his EVOLution world tour. The new shows he performed in each city on the itinerary blend his latest songs with some beloved ones from his previous records. Among them “Nonsense” is a hit full of innuendos and cheeky word-play, which his fans seem to adore.

The blonde singer definitely switched it up for this tour, with the inclusion of suggestive positions as he sings and dances for the crowd. The cherry on top of the proverbial cake are the giant phallus-shaped graphics that flash behind him in bright neon pink during the performance of this song. Fans are excited to see what comes next!

Chapter Text

June 2006

During the day, Lupine caters to both Muggles and Wizardkind, while at night, it caters primarily to creatures and wizards who keep irregular sleeping schedules.

The first shop opened in Diagon Alley at the end of 2004. The whole idea for the coffee chain came from Harry, who had recently been turned into a werewolf.

Unlucky and cursed as ever, Harry got bitten by one of the criminals he was chasing during his first investigative mission as a Lead Auror. It completely devastated him and his partner Ron when he was abruptly forced to leave the DMLE and put an end to his promising career after the war they had fought. The discrimination against werewolves was still rampant in the Ministry, including the Auror department. Which is why he was urged to quit.

Disillusioned by the loss of his dream and by the new reality of his life as a creature, Harry soon began to feel adrift as he was forced to start all over again. He didn’t know what to do. There was no longer a prophecy to guide him or dictate the path he should take.

What’s worse is that Ginny also broke up with him shortly after his first transformation, although she still insists to this day that it wasn’t because of his new furry condition.

Regardless, Harry was completely crushed after Ginny left him and slowly moved all of her things from the house they shared for five years. There would be no marriage bed for the two of them. There would be no children running around in the halls of Grimmauld Place. He would never waltz across the large atrium of the Ministry in the red robes he had bought after the completion of his auror training.

My life is over, Harry thought, anguish and hatred clouding his mind.

The dark thoughts swirling in his brain by that point, paired with the loss of control he had over his own magic, pushed him into a deep depression. Harry locked himself in Grimmauld Place, refusing to see anyone for nearly a whole year, before he finally forced himself to go out and buy groceries after getting sick of eating the same takeout meals every day on the couch in the living room.

It was also during that time that he discovered that Draco Malfoy had started a career as a singer. His songs and voice were everywhere, taunting him in his despair and the narrow food aisles of the Tesco Express near his place.

What the hell? Harry scowled after seeing the blonde's face gracing the front page of the Daily Prophet. He saw him again the next week on the glossy cover of a magazine.

There were no real mentions of the war or the fact that Malfoy had been a Death Eater, since it was written by a Muggle.

The headline on it simply was: Draco Malfoy, Superstar.

It was just a bunch of bollocks.

Deep down, Harry was secretly bitter and envious about the fact that good fortune always seemed to follow Malfoy around, while he was perpetually cursed with bad luck and stuck with the shitty end of the stick, as always.

Harry can reluctantly admit that he was no fun in those days.

Eventually, though, Hermione managed to get him out of his funk and persuaded him of the fact that he could do something more with his life. He could give it a new meaning and help other people too. That’s how they came up with the idea for the coffee shop.

As an avid campaigner of creatures’ rights, Hermione helped convince Harry to open a shop that would cater to wizards, muggles and creatures too.

The concept behind it was to hire creatures as the staff who would work inside of the shop. Hermione had been hoping that it would help destigmatize creatures in the wizarding world at large and also alter the commonly held perception that they were dangerous. It ended up being therapeutic for Harry as well. The project allowed tons of jobs to open for people like him who were often encouraged to isolate themselves or work in the shadows of society. With the pro-creature initiative, Harry slowly learned to accept himself as a werewolf and to adapt to the way his life was now that he’d been turned into one like many others. It wasn’t the end of the world like he thought it had been when it first happened to him all those years ago.

Being Harry Potter, of course, meant that his new venture attracted a lot of attention.

Some of it bad and some good too, it turns out.

Despite their many detractors in the press, the first shop he opened with Hermione in Diagon Alley ended up becoming a giant success. It forced the two of them to think about franchising. With the help of lawyers and a small team of financial advisors, they were able to trademark their unique concept and expand their coffeehouse chain by opening three more stores in Great Britain. The small number of Lupine coffee shops in London slowly branched out under the same name and grew to form a solid, iconic, and recognizable brand which is now linked with inclusivity, openness and most of all: good coffee.

Sure, it is just a coffee chain. But with it, Harry truly feels he is making a real difference.

He has become friends with so many different creatures. Dwarfs, vampires, werewolves, kitsune, centaurs. You name it. Many of them now work with him at Lupine. It's been fun so far and eye-opening.

Before, the word “creature” had often been used as a slur by wizards and muggles alike. But now, the wide range of creatures Harry has met as a result of his job at Lupine, and the community he has formed with them afterwards, use the term to signify and embody their non-normative, amorphous and multifaceted sense of self and identity. It is similar to how many people reclaimed the term “queer” to refer to themselves, their community, and their peers. Or so Hermione explained to him many times, whenever they broached that particular topic or discussed the non-existent state of his dating life. The fact that Harry is still using his creature status as an excuse to not put himself out there and stubbornly refuses to put an end to his eternal bachelorhood is always a popular talking point in those never-ending discussions after work.

Apparently, Harry is scared to fall in love or get rejected. Her words, not his.

Harry thinks that it's bullshit.

Anyway, it is also completely beside the point of today’s meeting.

Apart from constantly trying to convince Harry to put himself back in the figurative front lines of the dating world, Hermione has been on his case lately about the new sponsorship deal they are hoping to land with one of the top ten celebrities she thinks would fit with their brand. Their product development manager has come up with a new concept based around the form of an espresso, which she is now presenting with her proposal and a large glittery cardboard sheet placed on a metal stand.

“Run this by me again, please.” Harry sighs, impatiently rubbing the bridge of his nose.

The three different shades of pink on Lavender’s cardboard sheet are starting to hurt the sensitive irises of his eyes, which are now cursed with too good vision. Harry still wears his round glasses for the hot CEO/nerd aesthetic, as Brown calls it.

Or at least that’s what he lets her believe.

In reality, Harry is very attached to and possessive over the small things he owns like his glasses. So yes, he still wears the same ones he had back then, when he was a teenager. He has adjusted and repaired that pair a billion times since his days in Hogwarts. They still do the trick for him, except now he's removed the prescribed lenses that had previously been inside the thin wire frames.

Circling her large neon pink glittery cardboard sheet, Lavender Brown smiles at him and Hermione with a set of too sharp teeth poking out from her glossy lips.

“It’s an espresso shot, but with a customizable flavor added in the drink. It can range from different things, depending on the tastes and needs of our customers.”

“Give us an example of those flavors.” Hermione sits back and taps her blue ink pen on the side of her dark-brown chin.

“Vanilla, caramel, chocolate?” Lavender suggests, her usually smooth and steady voice sounding a bit unsure and squeaky at the very end.

Harry frowns at the cardboard placard on the stand and sighs again, pressing his fingers hard over his throbbing temples. That glitter is truly blinding.

“We need something more substantial to proceed with the next step of the sponsorship,” he explains to her patiently.

Still, Lavender's shoulders seem to deflate as she looks back at the large sheet she made for her presentation.

“I’m meeting with three of the artists selected by our brand strategist tomorrow,” Hermione points out to them in a calm and diplomatic manner. “Patil will need something more concrete to give them as a subject for the song they have to compose for us as part of the terms of the deal.”

“Let’s stick with the espresso concept,” Harry finally concedes, the decisive low-pitch of his voice causing Lavender to stand a bit straighter in their large open office space, which is located in London.

“I think we could adapt the espresso concept you came up with to fit with a wider range of customers, like you suggested.” Hermione nods and thoughtfully peers outside of the window on the wall behind their table. “Since it’s nearly summer now, how about we stick to something a bit sweeter?”

“That would certainly give it a broader appeal.” Harry anxiously looks at the clock on the other wall, wishing this long meeting could end already so he could go back home and rest before his transformation.

“I got it!” Lavender suddenly exclaims, causing both Harry and Hermione to jump back a bit in their seats. Their diverted attention immediately gets drawn back to the grinning half-werewolf and half-witch that is both their friend and coworker.

“Shoot,” Harry says, leaning forward with both hands gripping the front of his legs, the muscled thighs underneath his palms nearly bursting from the too tight seams and fabric of his casual business suit.

Lavender looks at him, confused. “What?”

“He means, tell us your great epiphany,” Hermione explains, before shaking her head with the barely-there sound of a chuckle.

“So, what I was thinking earlier, is that the tagline for our new drink concept could be “Short and Sweet” to denote the size of the cup.”

“Brilliant, Brown. We’ll go with this.” Harry immediately gets up from his chair and walks backwards to face the two women as he makes his way across the length of their wide office space on the top floor of the building. “I think this concludes our meeting for today.”

“Wait, hold on, Harry!” Hermione calls out after him, but Harry is already at the door, dressed and ready to leave.

He turns around to face her, his expression clearly worn out and in pain, as tonight is supposed to be a full moon. Brown is lucky to be a halfie, he thinks, bitterly.

“What is it, Hermione?”

“We still haven’t talked about our three potential candidates for the new sponsorship. There are so many factors to consider, Harry. Like their fans, the unique aspects of their own brand and their appeal, and their presence in the media too. It could all be a key factor that makes or breaks the promotion for this new product!”

“I trust you for the rest and leave it all in your capable hands.”

“But you don’t even know who we’re considering!” Hermione’s shrill voice rings out in his ears as she looks down and flips over the pages of the lengthy proposal Lavender had made today and set out for them on the table.

“It’s fine.” Harry mutters as he closes his eyes and waves a hand in front of his chest, the faint movement of his wrist allowing magic to burst through him and his fingertips in a powerful wave of static which persists until Harry can finally feel himself Apparate. He lands straight inside his large master bedroom in Grimmauld Place, flopping down backwards on his bed.

“I just need a week to sleep this off,” he tells himself and the empty space in front of his mattress.

Harry buries his face in the thick mountain of pillows he has on his bed and bites down on his bottom lip as he awaits the sickening twist and crunch of his bones breaking at the start of each transformation. The wards he built around his bedroom start to shimmer as Harry locks himself for the night. It will be a long one, he knows.

Chapter Text

“You've got to be joking.”

Harry stares at the revealing picture of Malfoy placed on top of the humongous pile of papers currently stacked up on his desk. The thick folder of clipped documents appears to be at least a few hundred pages.

“It's not a joke, Harry,” Hermione explains, adjusting the sides of the paper tower with her hands. “The contract is already signed.”

Fuck, Harry thinks, frowning at his cunning friend from the other side of his desk.

That’s what he gets for taking a whole week off from work to recover from his transformation during the full moon.

“Why him?” Harry can’t help but groan as he peers again at the picture of the singer on the cover of the main folder.

“You left me carte blanche, remember?”

“No, I didn't.” Harry immediately folds his arms over his chest in denial. “Besides, you know I would never have picked him.” He makes sure to spit that last word.

There is a reason he’s so livid about this right now.

A few years ago, at Hermione’s behest and suggestion, Harry started seeing a mind-healer to help him deal with his trauma. The three hundred years old vampire witch (named Valerie Blackthorn-Mavrogheni) encouraged him to talk about his nightmares and also his time in Hogwarts.

Many things had come up over the course of their twelve sessions, including Harry’s unresolved rivalry with none other than Draco Malfoy, who was by that point a celebrity. Harry also discussed his more recent break-up with Ginny. But mostly, they talked about the past and his childhood.

After Harry vividly recounted the memories of the blonde git he had known at school in Hogwarts, Valerie gently hinted to him that his obsession with Malfoy was something they should explore a bit further in their next sessions.

Of course, Harry had been a bit reticent to do so, at first.

He had tried so hard to move on and stop reminiscing about the war, which included him doing his best to avoid thinking about the blonde singer too. But the aforementioned attempt to do so was a bit of a challenge given that Draco was even more famous than Harry was now or had ever been in the past as the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice. Plus, Harry’s friends had always told him that his obsession with Malfoy was completely irrational and unhealthy, and thus something he shouldn’t focus on.

But then, over the course of their many sessions, Valerie explained to him at length that suppressing all his emotions about Malfoy or denying his obsession with the blonde were counterproductive to his recovery.

Following her persistent, professional advice, Harry had done a bit of exposure therapy and even read a few articles which had been written about Draco Malfoy, just to prove to himself, most of all, that he was no longer obsessed with the blonde Slytherin.

What a fucking load of horseshit that was, Harry quickly discovered.

It didn’t work at all.

Exposure therapy or whatever else she used to try to help him. The only thing it did manage to do was to make him feel even more like shit.

So then, of course, it shouldn’t have come at all as a surprise to anyone who knows him when Harry secretly stopped seeing Valerie and impulsively decided to build a huge funeral pyre out of all the two-hundred-and-fifty-two magazines he had bought and collected about the blonde pop star as part of the vampire’s stupid “therapy” techniques that were supposed to fix his obsession.

Which is why he can’t do this right now. Fucking hell and bollocks. Nope.

He’s not strong enough.

It will only end badly. Harry knows this for a fact. He’s terrible at controlling himself when it comes to the blonde. Plus, Hermione had no right to go behind his back like that and arrange this whole thing with Malfoy. Lupine is his too. Goddamn it! He won’t let the blonde ruin the one good thing he has done for himself (and others) since the war.

“You did leave it up to me,” Hermione very politely reminds him. “You even said, and I quote your exact words: ‘I leave it in your capable hands’.”

“I didn't think you would betray me.”

“I'm not betraying you, Harry.” Hermione sighs. “I simply made the best decision for the company. In your absence, I met with all the candidates on our list, and trust me, Malfoy was the best of the bunch.”

“I didn't even know he was on that list!”

“Well, that's what you get for never reading through all the paperwork and documents I give you.”

Only a complete nutcase would be able to go through the thick pile of documents Hermione writes for him every day, Harry privately thinks as he leans back from his desk with a scowl and the beginning of a stress-induced headache.

“What am I supposed to do when I see him?” Harry asks his traitorous friend.

“Well, that's easy and quite simple, Harry.” Hermione smiles and adjusts his tie as she stands and looms above him. “You just have to be nice with him and act professional. Show him how grateful we are that he agreed to take part in this special project and collaboration. Be mature and cordial. Embody the inclusive and open spirit of Lupine. We started this company for a reason, Harry. So I'm sure you can both use this new opportunity to rise above the petty rivalry you had in the past. I won’t be there today to oversee the appointment we have with him and his team because I have to pick up Rose from the daycare since Ron is away on a mission. But I trust you’re capable of handling this.”

“Sure, Hermione.” Harry grits his teeth and glares down at Malfoy’s picture on his desk. “I can be nice and professional.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Harry is already on his fifth shot of espresso by the time Draco Malfoy makes his grand entrance in the headquarters of Lupine.

Of course, Malfoy arrives thirty-three minutes late with his team to their scheduled meeting of the day. Harry is running out of patience, the surface of his table marked by the persistent tapping of his fingers.

Jittery and high on caffeine, the werewolf jerkily stands from his desk when he hears the sound of the elevator doors opening. From the edge of his door, Harry lurks and observes the group of newcomers from the short distance of his office.

From there, Harry can already see that Draco is wearing a bright pink sequined mini skirt that is slightly sheer and shiny under the lights of the long hallway in front of the elevators. It has a slit on the left side at the front that perfectly exposes the blonde singer's toned legs underneath too.

The sight of it pisses Harry off for some reasons. He frowns and immediately forces himself to look elsewhere.

On the other's slender feet is a pair of pink platform high heel shoes with thin straps wrapped at his ankles. Up above his shimmery skirt, Draco is also wearing a pastel pink and white halter top with geometrical designs sewn into the thin fabric that will probably make Harry dizzy soon if he keeps staring at it any longer.

Shit, now he’s back to eyeing his toned legs again…which isn’t any better.

“Welcome to Lupine, Draco!” Lavender cheerfully runs over and greets the blonde popstar before fluttering her long lashes down at his stern-looking manager. “Hello, Daphne! I'm very sorry we couldn't meet last time. Hermione had to meet each candidate with Padma Patil. HR stuff, you know?”

Daphne nods at her politely as she leads Draco down the top floor of the Lupine headquarters. “Nice place,” she remarks, peering at the view outside of the building.

“Today, you're meeting with Harry,” Lavender says as their little group of three finally reach the front of his large office. “Oh, and here he is already! Our chief executive officer, Harry Potter. But you guys already know each other, don't you?”

Lavender Brown grins at them knowingly.

“Malfoy,” Harry greets, stretching his broad palm out to the blonde for a handshake.

Draco stares at it and smirks, ignoring his hand completely. Harry scowls at him in response and barely resists the urge he feels to bare his teeth at the other.

Malfoy had always felt larger than life to him, or at least he appeared to be nearly as tall and imposing as the large manor in which he lived in with his family, whenever they fought together as boys in Hogwarts. But then, later on, Harry had learned from a magazine article titled '10 Odd Facts You Didn't Know About Draco Malfoy' – which he'd only found and read by accident, mind you – that apparently the Blonde Slytherin had worn special charmed heels under his Hogwarts robes to give the illusion that he had longer legs than he actually had in truth. The pair of charmed high heel shoes had also made him look a lot taller than a few other boys in his year (including Harry).

In reality, Draco Malfoy is barely a hair above five feet, one inch and three quarters (according to the latest stats on his wiki page).

It is thus a great relief for Harry (and also a big ego boost) to see the snarky blonde again and actually be able to look down at him, for a change.

Ah! Take that, Malfoy! Harry thinks, internally celebrating this small victory.

Now, Harry towers over him, and most people, ever since the late growth spurt that suddenly hit him and his bones, the year after he killed Voldemort. He is also a lot bulkier and heavier than he had been back when he was an Auror-in-training.

The many changes in his body came about as a result of his new, enhanced physique and strength as a creature. There are many downsides that come with it too, of course. Like his painful shifts during the full moon. But still, Harry has also gained many useful abilities. Such as being able to smell the layered nuance of emotions coming off from other people and also becoming incredibly adept at discerning from various tells (size of pupils, respiration, and heart rate) when someone is lying to him.

“Turns out you were right when you said 'see you again' that day, Potter.”

“Yeah, and you were wrong about every single thing you said about me.” Harry glares at the blonde as he curls his hands into fists, his teeth itching to bite on something.

“It's the only time in my life for which I can say I'm glad to have been proven wrong about something.”

Harry doesn't know what to make of that answer. Draco smells of pure honesty—and also of deep longing, for some reason. Which doesn’t make any sense.

Thankfully, Greengrass clears her throat and saves them both the trouble of having to continue that discussion on what happened (or didn’t happen) that day at the manor.

“I'm sure you remember Daphne.” Draco says, moving his pointy chin in the direction of the brown-haired witch next to him.

Harry doesn't remember her at all. He only had eyes for Malfoy back then. So he’s (only a bit) ashamed to say that he can barely recall the names or faces of the Slytherins who were from his year in Hogwarts.

“She's my manager and best friend and also a fellow Slytherin,” Draco adds, smiling at him as he though he read the thought that crossed Harry's mind.

“Snakes do stick together in the end,” Harry spits the words with the intention for them to sound like an insult, but Draco's face remains impassive.

“They do,” the blonde hums, his eyes slowly darting towards Brown. “As do werewolves it would seem.”

“Half-werewolf, actually,” Lavender corrects him, before awkwardly gesturing to the empty seats in Harry's office. “Shall we start with the meeting?”

Fuck yes, Harry thinks. He can’t wait for it to be over.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Oh, fuck off, Malfoy.” Harry scowls. “I don’t want to be in your music video.”

“It would be funny.” Draco smirks, leaning back a bit in his chair. “We would finally see the return of “Potter Stinks” on the trending page of every social media platforms.”

“I won’t do it.”

“But the cameo is part of the deal we just signed,” Draco points out as he twirls a loose strand of his long wavy blonde hair around the manicured finger of his hand. “I’m afraid it’s part of the so-called ‘collab’ between me and your company.”

“Fuck it all, then. We’ll just pick another artist.”

“It’s too late for that now,” Draco tuts with a look of mock-pity. “You’re stuck with me for the whole summer. Better get ready for more of my pretty face.”

“Fuck. Off.”

“Nice to see you haven't changed, Potter.”

So haven’t you, Harry thinks with venom, the painful sparks of wild magic pulsing from his fingertips. He exhales and forces it back inside of himself, the weight of it on his magical core crushing the air in his ribcage.

“Wait, let me take that back.” Draco gives Harry a thorough once-over and checks him out from head-to-toe, licking his lips when he’s done objectifying him. “You have changed a lot since the last time I saw you in the manor. It's a real tragedy that your tiny brain didn't catch up to all that height and those muscles.“

Harry growls at that and fights the urge to punch him. He takes a long moment to check him out too, his narrowed eyes landing on Malfoy's smirk when he's done.

“Had your fill of me already?” Draco asks with the derisive tilt of his chin. “Just take a picture, Potter. it'll probably last longer.”

“You wish.” Harry says, before quickly realizing what it sounded like.

“Oh, Merlin! You're still a riot, Potter.” Draco wheezes out as he wipes the non-existent tears from his eyes once he’s finally done laughing at Harry's answer for a painfully long minute and a half.

“And you're still the same nasty git I knew from school.” Harry shoots back nastily, which immediately manages to wipe out the brilliant smile from Malfoy’s face.

Daphne thankfully interrupts the tense, awkward moment by clearing her throat next to them. She looks down at the blonde and gently grabs him by the elbow to lift him up from the chair of Harry’s office.

“You have an interview with The Independent and The Sun scheduled at three. We need to head out ASAP, D. Hurry up and get ready to leave, we GTG now.”

“What did I say about acronyms?”

Daphne glares at the disapproving look of the popstar before uncharacteristically sticking her tongue out at him. The sight of it on the face of his manager immediately brings back Malfoy's smile and causes his cheerful mood to return.

“It's not my fault that you still can't keep up with the times, darling.” Daphne adds, grinning.

“You're such a silly minx, Greengrass. I hate you for starting to sleep with that Muggle twat. He turned your mind to mush with those incomprehensible, stupid emojis.”

Harry quietly observes the exchange between the two Slytherins with a curious frown on his face. It's almost like he doesn't exist as they continue to banter. He’s not really sure what to make of it.

“I'll wait for you by the lift,” Daphne says when they’re finished, completely ignoring Harry as she flicks her long skirt and turns to leave his office.

Lavender follows her out with an anxious frown and grimace on her face, leaving Harry and Malfoy alone together, once again, for the first time in seven years.

“Well, it was good to see you, Potter.”

Be mature and professional. Hermione's words suddenly come back at the forefront of Harry’s mind as he stands and stares at the blonde.

“I'm sorry. For earlier, I mean.”

“Don't be sorry,” Draco replies softly. “Contrition doesn't suit you at all.”

“I guess it doesn't suit you either.” Harry tries to put on a smile, but it feels stiff and odd on his face.

“Don't strain yourself, Potter. You'll pull a muscle if you do that.”

“Oh, fuck off, Malfoy.”

“Ah, yes! That's better and more honest.”

This time Harry's smile is more genuine.

“I guess we'll see a lot of each other very soon?” Draco asks, mirroring his posture.

Unlikely, Harry is half-tempted to reply to the blonde, as payback for how Malfoy left things between them seven years ago, in their last meeting in the manor.

Be nice and cordial. Hermione's strongly-worded request comes back to him once again, forcing Harry to bite back the word hovering on the tip of his tongue.

“See you in two weeks,” Harry says to him instead, his tone very cordial and mature indeed. Hermione would be so proud.

“Can't wait!” Draco says, smiling at him like he means it.

“Don't be late next time,” Harry immediately calls after the blonde as his narrowed eyes closely follow the sensuous way Malfoy sways his hips in his pink platform high-heel shoes and his pink miniskirt.

It’s going to be a very long summer.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Will There be a Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter Collab in the Future? (June 24, 2006 – Witch Weekly)

It seems Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter have finally buried the hatchet!

In the pre-Second-Wizarding-War past, the blonde pop star had been involved in a long-standing rivalry with the dark and handsome war hero which actually propelled rumors that they were secretly in love when they were in school at Hogwarts.

Later, Draco became famous in the Wizarding World after releasing his iconic single 'Owls I Can't Send', a song about his regret and heartbreak. The lyrics of the award-winning hit include the words: "It's times like these I wish I had a time turner / I would meet you again as a better me / But it's too late now to change colors / The Avada green of your eyes would agree."

Fans speculated before that this part of the song actually refers to Harry Potter and his (in)famous emerald green eyes, although the singer himself has vaguely denied the truth of those claims and theories. "Mind your own business," he was heard saying, the last time he was asked this question by one of our reporters.

However, shortly after winning a Grammy for the above-mentioned hit single, Draco Malfoy also released the song 'Because I Liked a Boy', which seemed once again to refer to the same person (a.k.a. Harry Potter):

"I’m the hot topic on your tongue / I’m a curse flying from your wand / Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy! / Tell me who I am, brave lion / Guess I don’t have a choice / Acting stupid and reckless is our thing / All because I liked you as a boy."

It's clear Draco is hinting at how he was always portrayed as the villain by Harry in Hogwarts, “acting stupid and reckless" with the younger Potter too, who in this case is the so-called "brave lion" the singer is directly calling out.

Just this week, Witch Weekly reported that Potter and Malfoy were seen meeting at the Lupine office headquarters in London, seven years after the end of the war.

After the long meeting, the blonde singer and his manager (Daphne Greengrass) were also reportedly seen and heard chatting about a new project with Potter's coffee shop company.

The article we published that day about the event took the Wizarding World by storm! Positive comments immediately flooded the large owls box in our newsroom. One fan of 'Drarry' even wrote, “Not even exaggerating when I say this is the greatest peace treaty in history.”

Another fan even referenced the two’s mutual love for Quidditch and included with their owl for our editors a crude drawing of them kissing and the scribbled words in red and green underneath: “Somewhere out there, a Drarry fan artist is already drawing a piece of the two of them getting back on their broomsticks (so to speak) and getting ready to chase each other.”

Regardless of all the craze about the comeback of ‘Drarry’ and the new fan theories that are popping up all over the place, one thing is certain: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are cooking something big together!

[ Read more about Lupine’s vision for creatures on page 19 → press here to activate the Page Skipper charm ]

We really can't wait to find out more details about what it is. Make sure to stay tuned!

Chapter Text

For once, Malfoy is on time for the photoshoot they booked for him in the studio. The final product will be put on the large billboard advert they bought for him in London. The photo campaign is meant to be a teaser of their upcoming project and collaboration together, according to Patil who is out of their office today to sleep in her coffin.

Lucky vamp, Harry thinks, already picturing his next vacation.

Preferably somewhere far away.

“See, I told you he can play nice and be professional.” Hermione gloats and looks at him as he downs his second shot of espresso.

It’s dark and bitter, just the way he likes it.

“I didn't say he couldn't be,” Harry quietly grumbles as he vanishes the biodegradable cup in his hand.

“I trust your meeting with him went well the other day.”

“He's still a git, if that's what you are asking me.”

“Oh, come on, Harry!” Hermione sighs, irritated. “You know I don't mean to be on your case like this about the collab. I'm sorry if this is how I made you feel lately. It's just that I'm so very glad to see that you've both managed to come out of your shared experiences unscathed and grown a lot more mature and capable since the war.”

Harry glowers back at the blonde at that, who is now posing in a suggestive manner in front of the male photographer they hired for the large advert. Malfoy is wearing a black strapless bodysuit with silver details in the fabric. It has a black bow in the front which adds a bit of volume to the flat surface of his chest. Harry looks down at Malfoy’s slender legs again, noting the sheer black stockings the singer has underneath his tight bodysuit. The sultry outfit of the blonde is complemented by a pair of black platform heels that are so ridiculously high and narrow they must be a safety hazard.

“Did you listen to the demo of his song I sent you via Owl?” Hermione prompts after a lenghty pause filled with the flashes of the camera.

“I read the lyrics,” Harry grudgingly admits. And hated them. He valiantly stops himself from adding that part. Thankfully.

“And?” Hermione asks, clearly eager. “What did you think of it?”

“I guess it's very commercial.” Harry shrugs before looking back at the blonde who is now posing with his back to the camera.

“It will be perfect for our concept, trust me.” Hermione raises her chin confidently and puts both her hands up around her large curvy hips in a very powerful and boss-like manner, which frankly suits her more than Harry.

“Honestly, the melody is so catchy, I can't stop singing it in the shower, and you know how terrible I am at singing! Ron really, really hates it.”

Oh, I know, Harry thinks but doesn't actually say to the curly-haired witch. Instead, he keeps his narrowed eyes and disgruntled frown sharply trained and fixed on Malfoy who is now lying on his stomach with his legs swinging up behind his small shapely bottom, the slight curves of his waist and thighs accentuated by the tight fabric of his bodysuit.

Just last week, Harry had heard Ron complaining about how his four-year-old daughter Rose keeps begging him non-stop to buy Malfoy's new album—‘Short n’ Sweet’. She’s a big fan of him, apparently. And so is half of the wizarding world too, these days, a fact which Harry has valiently tried to ignored for years, but to no avail. Clearly.

Harry and his ex Auror partner had been discussing the usually tense subject of how things were going at work (Ron: ‘Robards Is still a muppet.’ Harry: ‘Good to know.’) when they met for their routine round of late-night drinks at the pub in Diagon Alley.

Naturally, the topic of Lupine’s new collaboration (which Ron had heard about from Hermione before he could tell him) had to come up, eventually.

[‘Malfoy always sings about fucking,’ the slightly tipsy ginger lamented to him as he downed his second shot of Firewhiskey. ‘I don’t want Rose to start learning what the words ‘horny’ or ‘fuzzy pink handcuffs’ mean at her age, you know? She’s only four years old!’

‘Yeah, I get it.’ Harry replied to him, gritting his teeth sharply as he began feeling protective and pissed off at Malfoy on the account of Rose, of fucking course.]

The old adage ‘sex sells’ is true, in Malfoy’s case.

It doesn’t mean that Harry has to grin and approve of what the blonde did and does for a living, or how he managed to reach his current level of fame and success.

It’s not my business, Harry exhales, tearing his livid emerald green eyes away from the exposed shoulders of the blonde.

It has a goddamn kiss mark on it. Harry absently wonders who put it there, before he forces himself to remember that he is not supposed to care what Malfoy does.

(It’s probably the makeup artist. Right?)

The coffee shop company Harry started with Hermione prides itself on openness and inclusivity. They’re selling unique coffee products and offering a safe sanctuary in each location of their coffeehouses, where all kinds of people and beings are meant to feel welcomed and happy. And that includes Malfoy and the stupid Muggle photographer they hired for the billboard advert.

“Oui, comme ça, Draco. C’est parfait! Garde cette pose.”

Of course, the brown-haired twink with the big professional camera is from France, which quickly endears him to the singer.

“Like this?” Malfoy flicks his long blonde hair over his thin shoulder.

“Magnifique, oui! Tourne ta tête vers moi. C’est bon, comme ça. Good!”

“He’s really talented, isn’t he?” Hermione whispers to Harry, her soft awed voice distracting him from the sight of the gorgeous blonde.

“I guess...”

“I never thought Malfoy could look so pretty.”

It’s the half-veela genes, Harry wants to say again, yet abstains and keeps his mouth firmly shut in a twisted grimace. Because he knows it’s not the whole truth.

There’s something uniquely Malfoy about the way he is pretty and feminine. Even other full-blood veelas he met before can’t compare. Draco Malfoy is in a league of his own.

The wolf in Harry seems to agree. It screams the words ‘mate’ and ‘mine’ in his head constantly and growls when the photographer they hired touches or gets too close to the blonde.

“Are we done?” Harry asks loudly, attracting the attention of everyone working in the studio.

“Presque fini. Almost!” The photographer says in his thick accent, which only serves to grate on Harry’s nerves. Draco turns to the man and the camera with a blinding smile on his face, fingering a strand of his hair.

“Harry, you're bleeding.” Hermione says in a worried voice.

“What?” Harry looks down at himself and realizes he accidentally made holes in his shirt with the extended tip of his claws, the torn edges of the white sleeves now stained red with his blood. He forces himself to unclench his hands and drop his crossed arms. The wounds he caused on his brown skin heal in the matter of a second. Hermione subtly casts a mending charm on the fabric of Harry's dress shirt with her wand, her lips pursed at its current state.

“You have to look clean and professional, Harry!” Hermione tuts as she vanishes the blood from the rolled-up sleeves on Harry’s forearms.

“What's next on the agenda?” Harry says, uneasily changing the subject.

Hermione peers up at him knowingly. But thankfully, she drops the topic of what she clearly wanted to say or warn him about before they can start loudly arguing about his 'possessive streak' and 'obsession with Malfoy'. Her words, not his. Again.

“There’s the interview with Vogue Magazine at 4PM today.”

“And that's it?” Harry asks, sounding hopeful.

“Oh no, I almost forgot, there's also Rita Skeeter coming in after the shoot for the advert. She’ll be here for an interview.”

“Skeeter?” Harry growls, baring his teeth. “I thought we were done with that vermin.”

“We aren't done with her, sadly. She's still the most recognizable writer who works for the Daily Prophet.”

“And? I'm supposed to care why exactly?”

“I'm not asking you to care about her, Harry.” Hermione barely holds back the urge she feels to roll her eyes at him and his childish antics. “You just need to do your part to make this collaboration the mega success we want it to be. Skeeter agreed to write a dual piece about you and Malfoy. Think of it as free promotion for Lupine. We need more outreach for creatures' medical care in the wizarding world. Add that as a talking point.”

“Fine.” Harry crosses his arms over his chest with a petulant frown on his tired face. He makes sure to be extra careful with his claws this time, lest he ruins his dress shirt again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Did Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter Become Friends...Or Something More? (July 1, 2006 – Rita Skeeter, The Daily Prophet)

For the longest time, it seemed there would never be any hope for Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter to be friends. That’s thanks in part to all the scandalous drama they went through together in Hogwarts during the dark years leading to the war and You-Know-Who’s big return. How could any of us forget? It was so chaotic and terrible!

But it looks like things might possibly be turning around for the talented blonde starlet and the broody-hero-turned-werewolf. Is it possible that Malfoy and Potter are on the road to friendship?

After seven years of silence, things are finally shifting. Here’s what you should know:

Harry Potter's company, Lupine, is partnering with Draco Malfoy for the promotion of a new coffee product this summer. It centers around the idea of something being "short and sweet" like the blonde singer we’ve all come to love and admire. How lovely and brilliant!

HJP: Lavender Brown, the half-werewolf on our team, came up with it actually.

DLM: Is that so, Potter?

HJP: Brown is the product development manager in Lupine, by the way, and she is good at innovating and thinking outside the box.

RS: That's something you encourage as CEO, I take it? Being wild and out there.

HJP: Innovative thinking is very important for us at Lupine. We also value openness and inclusivity, unlike many departments I know of at the ministry.

RS: And by 'inclusivity' you mean hiring creatures like werewolves, veelas and vampires?

HJP: That's just a small part of it. We've also recently opened twelve shelters near five of our main coffeehouse locations in Europe. There are three shelters here in London, four in Paris, two in Rome, two in Madrid and also one in Amsterdam. We've also built creature-adapted sanctuaries where homeless youths and elders—who have been rejected by either their family or society as a result of their creature status, mental health, gender orientation and identity—can enjoy a safe place to eat, sleep, and of course drink coffee.

RS: What a nice and beautiful dream! (Laughs)

DLM: It's not a dream for him, Skeeter. It's reality. You should come and see it in person. I've visited one of them before and I really think it's amazing.

RS: Ah yes, thank you for the input, Draco!

HJP: Creatures stick together, always. (Looks over at Draco.)

RS: How sweet. (Laughs)

[End of Interview]

The half-veela singer also wrote a special song to celebrate his new collaboration with Lupine. Draco Malfoy informed us that the title of the song is 'Espresso'. Here's a hint about the concept:

More to come soon about the release!

Chapter Text

Lupine's New Collab Announcement! (Posted on July 2, 2006 – @lupine_coffee)

Lupine is getting short and sweet this summer with a new Draco Malfoy collab - Draco's Orange Blossom Honey Espresso!

The limited edition drink will be out on July 17 (Monday) and features a double shot of espresso, almond milk and orange blossom honey-infused syrup which is thoroughly shaken until it gets all nice and frothy and cold!

The rest of the Lupine's summer menu drops on Monday as well so you can look forward to that too. Great new items are coming to dazzle you and your taste buds!

Are you excited for this collab?

Like, comment, and share this post to let us know!

Make sure to check out Draco's new song too. It's called 'Espresso' and it comes out on July 21 at 12 AM (EST) / 5 AM (GMT)!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Cut!” the director finally calls for a break after they nail the choreographed scene where Draco gets carried by a bunch of blokes on top of a surfboard. “Let’s stop for some lunch and then we’ll start again at 2PM and shoot the beach scene with the girls.”

Every member of the filming/production crew nods at him and cheers in response. Harry needs that break more than anyone working on the set with the blonde. He’s hot, sweaty and irritatingly aroused and hungry. Plus, he needs another coffee.

For three full hours, he’s been hearing Draco’s new song ‘Espresso’ play on the large speakers they put near the parked car and bus on the beach. Hermione was right, goddamn it. The song is indeed catchy. Harry has the melody and the words of the lyrics stuck firmly inside of his head like a spell playing in a loop.

Now he's thinking of me every night, oh
Is it that sweet? I guess so
Say you can't sleep, wolfy, I know
That's that me espresso

Harry can’t help thinking that the song is about him, even though he knows it’s crazy.

The part that says “wolfy” at the beginning doesn’t help to clear the doubts that keep clawing away at his mind. There’s also the (very unsubtle and law-breaking) mention of the snitch being flicked by skillful fingers and the line about amortentia being brewed by the blonde to make him addicted to his scent.

The ex not doing it for ‘him’–-or his unnamed ‘wolfy’ suitor in the chorus—perfectly describes how Malfoy ruined his whole relationship with Ginny by making Harry act ‘completely unhinged during the full moon and way too obsessed about what he’s up to’—Ginny’s words, not his.

Too bad your ex won’t do it for ya
Walked in, all sweet, and then I ruined it for ya
Soft skin, unclaimed, so perfect for ya

This specific part of the song has to be referring to the way it ended so badly for him with Ginny because Harry was still obsessed about him, right?

Or maybe not.

Fuck.

Draco’s fans would probably call this “delulu” thinking and behaviour. And if Malfoy knew his thoughts about this, he would surely laugh in his face.

‘A bit too full of yourself, aren’t you, Potter?’ He would say.

And perhaps he would add:

‘How predictable.’

‘The world doesn’t revolve around you, Potter, in case you forgot.’

Harry can vividly picture the cocky sneer the blonde would wear on his face as he would say something to him along those lines or maybe ‘Keep dreaming, Potter’.

But, fuck! Goddamn it, Harry internally curses with a pained grunt before he turns around once again and glares at the way the blonde singer looks in his blue swimming suit, slowly walking across the side of the beach with the light press of his tiny toes on the flat surface of the sand, his milky white skin glowing under the too bright rays of the midday sun. He really does look like an angel, his blonde hair haloed by the light of the sky and the blue backdrop of the sea.

(Okay, maybe Harry is starting to hallucinate a bit from both the heat and the allure. But it’s not all in his head, okay?!)

If only people could see the way Draco keeps staring at him…

It’s almost like he wants him (in a carnal way) and doesn’t care about anyone else on the beach. The sight of him looking back with those half-hooded silver eyes is enough to cause Harry’s mouth to salivate. But maybe that’s just a sign that he needs to eat or drink something. It is indeed sweltering hot outside today.

“Stay hydrated,” Harry says to a group of female extras who run past him on the crowded beach, all wearing the same type of bikini. “There’s iced coffee in the tent.”

Draco fans himself with the pale fingers of his dainty hand as he finally leaves the large sandy set and approaches him in his form-fitting swimsuit.

“Already forming a new fanclub?” Draco asks, frowning as he shields his eyes from the sun.

“They’re just extras.”

“And what am I to you then?”

Dazzling, Harry bites the word hovering on his tongue. Instead, he tells the blonde:

“Annoying. That’s what you are.”

Draco smiles at him, his perfectly maintained pink-oval fingernails trailing down the side of his torso.

“Come on, you heard the director. It’s time to eat. Aren’t you hungry or thirsty?” Harry asks, glancing off from the singer to glare at a crew member who was staring at Malfoy’s ass on the beach. “You’ve been working under the sun for hours.”

“Worried about me?”

“Nope.”

“Well, you’re right, Potter.” Draco licks his glossy lips as he lowers the retro pair of white sunglasses he had before on his head until they land over his face and cover his bright silver eyes. “I’m very, very thirsty–and hot.”

Harry follows the slight movement of his tongue and immediately swallows the snarky reply he was about to say. The sharp rays of the midday sun glint on the mirrored lenses of Malfoy’s sunglasses, reflecting his dazed expression. Harry blinks at it for a second and then promptly walks off on the beach, intent on finding a distraction. He hears Malfoy mutter something to himself behind him before the blonde decides to trail after him, kicking off tiny particules of white sand with his toes until he finally reaches him and matches his long strides by the sea.

“Does it get uncomfortable for you?” Harry eventually asks the blonde as they start walking next to each other on the empty stretch of the beach.

“What do you mean?” Draco asks, genuinely confused.

“Your outfit for the shoot, I mean.”

Malfoy stills and turns abrupty, craning his neck up to stare at the werewolf.

Now, it’s Harry who’s starting to look uncomfortable. Shitshitshit—

“My outfit?” The blonde singer frowns at him before placing his hands up on his slender hips. “What about it, Potter?”

Malfoy suddenly looks pissed.

What did I do wrong? Harry freezes up on the beach with his feet planted in the sand. His heart thuds inside of his chest as a sharp painful ‘zing’ rushes through his whole body, causing him to clutch his stomach.

Fuck, Harry winces and curses internally. He shouldn’t have opened his big mouth. But now, it’s too late for him to just drop it or escape the awkward moment.

“Well?” Malfoy asks, impatient.

“It must get cramped down there in a bikini. With a…you know?”

Harry vaguely gestures at the other’s small and tight blue bottom.

“What…?” Malfoy’s voice trails off as he frowns and glances down at the blue swimsuit in question. But then, in the next second, his pale blonde eyebrows imperceptibly rise above the bold matte frames of the cat eye sunglasses on his forehead, before he finally looks back up at Harry with a tiny smirk on his lips. “Oh, I think I get it now.”

“You do?” Harry looks and feels confused as all hell. Where is this going? He wonders.

“To answer your unspoken question. I don’t have a cock, Potter.”

Wait…

Hold on.

…what?

Harry’s brain short-circuits, a different kind of ‘zing’ jolting through his whole body as he slowly takes in the new piece of information.

I don’t have a cock, Potter

I don’t-

I…

I have a—

“Will that be a problem?” Draco asks, fluttering his long lashes at the werewolf as he absently fiddles with the straps of his custom-made bathing suit.

Harry blinks at him and says, “Nope!” a bit too loud, inadvertenly startling a seagull that was hovering near the tent where the food and drinks on set could be found.

Harry is half-tempted to look down again below the other’s navel, to make sure he’s telling the truth. But he knows it would be crazy and wildly inappropriate to do so, right?

(Right?)

“Good.” Draco finally says as he heads to the coffee bar. “Time for that me espresso!”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Draco Malfoy Channels Retro Beach Style in “Espresso” (July 16, 2006 – Vogue Magazine)

Draco Malfoy is one of the most-anticipated artists set to perform at the Wembley Stadium this summer. But even amid his busy schedule and preparing for the end of his U.K. tour, the pop star still found the time to release a brand new single and music video for his recent collaboration with Lupine, the beloved coffee brand.

Titled “Espresso”, Malfoy’s addictive, groovy track is sure to be the hit of the summer. In the teaser, which we finally got a glimpse of this week, the blonde was lounging around with Harry Potter (CEO of Lupine) in a blue retro swimsuit on the beach.

(Click here to see the full look + the accessories he wore on the set!)

“I can’t relate to desperation,” Malfoy sang, ignoring the (very large) tanned shoulders of the man lying next to him. The word ‘Espresso’ appeared on Potter’s broad back as the singer drank a shot of espresso and added with a cheeky smile, “My give-a-fucks are on vacation.”

For Malfoy, the true meaning of his new single is all about basking in self-confidence and embracing his ‘mythical’ side. “The song is about using my ‘special allure’ as a superpower and embracing the confidence of being that bloke you know everyone wants but can’t have,” he tells Vogue. “I’ve always been that guy, you know. It’s a curse to be that gorgeous.” The singer sighs, before shaking his head with a smile.

Given that the song has a more relaxed, carefree feel compared to many of the other hits on his repertoire, it only makes sense that Malfoy decided to channel a hot blonde and fun summer vibe for the accompanying music video he filmed this month as well with the crew of Lupine.

“Since the day I wrote the song, I pictured a beach atmosphere—and more specifically Potter lying next to me on a tiny towel,” the pop star says, laughing. “I also wanted to capture the playfulness of the rivalry we had at school and use it as a theme throughout the whole video. Like with that scene you’ll see (very soon) where he arrests me over the pool car. But I also just wanted to see him in a tight swimsuit, to be frank. Which I think my fans will understand and appreciate once they see the full video.”

(More about the deep rivalry between Potter and Malfoy here. The real untold truth!)

“What Malfoy wants, Malfoy gets,” the blonde winks as we conclude our interview.

We can’t help but agree with Draco Malfoy. Espresso will definitely be as big as his ego (and Harry Potter’s broad shoulders) and we’ll enjoy every second of it—this summer!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

What Draco Malfoy's "Espresso" Is Really About (July 18, 2006 – Apple Music)

Espresso is a very famous drink (from Italy) which is made by forcing hot water through tightly packed coffee grounds to create a highly dense caffeinated beverage. It's essentially a small "shot" of pure coffee, which is meant to give you a quick rush of energy when you are feeling down or drained from the world.

It is also highly addictive, as many of us know! (Sigh…now I’m craving one.)

In a very similar manner, with the lyrics of his new summer hit ‘Espresso’, Draco Malfoy is hinting that his "me espresso" is the effect he has on other boys. They can't sleep at night because they're up thinking about him and obsessing about what he’s up to. They keep craving a taste of him, even though they know he’s ‘bad’ for their health and their heart. They just can’t help it. They want him. So bad. Very relatable.

“I had someone in mind when I wrote that part,” the blonde singer explained, before stubbornly refusing to give us a clue about the person he’s referring to. Alas!

In the most recent teaser we got for ‘Espresso’, we also hear Malfoy singing the line:

"Now he's thinking of me every night, oh. Is it that sweet? I guess so."

Sounds like the so-called ‘boy’ that gets mentioned by him in the song became addicted to the singer. We can all relate to that struggle! (Sigh.)

Later in the song, Malfoy also compares himself to Amortentia, a magical love potion (he says!) that probably exists in another world (a.k.a. The Draco Malfoy Multiverse, perhaps?).

"I know I’m like Amortentia for ya (yes). That little potion, I brewed it for ya (yes). One sip and then it was done for ya," the blonde hums softly in the catchy chorus of ‘Espresso’.

The pop star also explained that the song is all about feeling good and confident, and that the lyrics he wrote are not meant to be taken seriously. So stop making crazy theories, people!

Malfoy mentioned that he began writing the song as a "manifestation tactic" to capture the attention of ‘someone one who got away’.

Who could that be? We still wonder…

At the end of our short and sweet radio interview, the blonde singer added, "Equating myself to caffeine and that addiction you get when you become accustomed to drinking coffee every day of the week was really fun and exciting. I definitely have a caffeine addiction as it is. Ask the staff of any Lupine location you can find across Europe, and they will definitely all tell you that it is true. I always order their espresso. So writing the song for them this summer and taking part in the special collaboration with Lupine really ended up being a full circle experience for me."

We certainly can’t wait to get a taste of his “me espresso” soon!

(→ Pre-order ‘Espresso’ on Itunes (available here for streaming + in stores on July 21) and make sure to put a notification reminder on your calendar for the release of the official music video that will be out this July 28 on Youtube at 12AM EST / 5AM GMT ←)

Check out Lupine’s new summer menu. It includes Draco Malfoy’s honey-infused espresso flavor (which comes out cold for the summer with real orange blossoms in the cup). Yum!

Chapter Text

It has been more than two weeks now since the filming of the music video for ‘Espresso’ has wrapped up. It is, as Hermione says, officially over. The two teasers for the clip were released a few days ago and the song came out last Friday. Now, Malfoy is done with them, as per the terms of his contract, and back to performing on stage for his tour in the U.K.

So Harry should be happy, right?

Or at least feel a bit relieved that he no longer has to deal with Malfoy.

Yet, Harry finds that the more time goes by without him seeing the blonde in person, the harder it gets for him to sleep at night. He lays in bed alone, in a state of complete exhaustion, feeling both restless and burnt out. It’s been one of those nights again, the kind that makes him wish he could stop thinking about Malfoy.

Daylight peeks through the blinds of his bedroom, but he’s not ready to face it yet or the fact he has to wake up. Harry does his best to ignore the faint tapping at his window and snuggles deeper into his bed covers, playing dead for a while. But then, the loud hooting of the bird continues, more persistent and aggrieved than before, as it snaps its beak on the thick glass pane of the window, forcing him to open his eyes.

Whoever it is, it better be worth it, Harry groans as he reluctantly rolls out from his bed.

It is a Sunday after all, and…

Harry stills for a second and then clumsily rushes over to the window when he spots the small bird on the other side. He waves a hand and removes the wards around his room wandlessly before he cracks open the window with the sharp twist of the rusty handle, allowing the bird to hop over on the windowsill.

The small eagle owl peers at him with an ivory envelope neatly tied around its left leg. It contains a single ticket for the blonde’s upcoming sold-out show at the Wembley stadium in London. There’s also a small note inside that says:

Dear Harry Potter,

I would like to inform you that I was quite pleased to work with you (and Lupine) on this recent collaboration for 'Espresso'.

These last few weeks have been a pleasant experience for me. We’ve learned a lot about each other as we worked closely together to make this project a success.

However, I personally think that there is still so much more we could discover about one another. You've never been to one of my concerts, I presume? I think we should promptly rectify that. Don't you want to see me perform? I promise you’ll enjoy it!

Regardless of your answer, I'm sending you a VIP ticket for my upcoming show in London. I hope you'll come to see me in August.

Warm regards,

Draco L. Malfoy

PS: Think of this as a small thank you gift / early birthday present from me for your special day coming soon.

Harry reads the short letter twice, his heart thudding inside of his chest. The fabric of his sleeping clothes sticks to his body and his dark hair looks messy since it hasn’t been washed in five days. He stinks of sweat and wolfsbane. But his brown cheeks hurt from smiling as he bends down and stretches his hand out to pat the small head of the eagle owl who is currently grooming its smooth gold feathers on the edge of his windowsill.

Harry’s kind gesture to the bird gets rewarded by a sharp nip on his fingertips. But he doesn't care about that right now—or the fact that it’s so early in the morning. He grins and stares at the ticket in his other hand.

For once, he can't wait for his birthday.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Harry stands in the very first row of the stadium, next to the bright silver barricades, which have been put right up to the stage to protect Draco from crazy fans who want to touch him, hurt him or worse. The seats in the stadium are filled to bursting with people since the show is about to start. Harry already feels on edge from all the noise and the chattering. It’s the opposite of being stuck in the cupboard underneath the stairs. But it feels the same to him in a way.

The werewolf instincts amplify the claustrophobic sensation swelling through his chest and cause him to glare at anyone who gets too close to the stage. Harry’s massive height and large hulking frame make him stand out among Draco's fans, which are mostly teenagers. A girl in pigtails even starts crying to her mother when their eyes meet at one point. Harry shrugs at them and continues to wait for the concert. He sagely ignores a group of teenage girls who try to sneak pictures of him with their cellphones.

Harry looks so bulky and ripped in the old ratty shirt he picked to wear for tonight's show that most people must assume he's one of Draco's bodyguards, rather than simply just someone who has come to see him perform live on stage for the first time. His old school rival and obsession. Ah!

Who could have guessed this would happen? Not Harry Potter, that's for sure.

(But perhaps, he had always been his first stalker/fan. Unlike them.)

The lights finally dim down in the large stadium as a pair of pink heels appears on the three large screens of the stage. A short, introductory clip of Draco, seemingly naked as he soaks his limbs in a bubble bath, starts to play on them afterwards.

The blonde singer’s wavy hair is tied up in a loose bun that exposes the top of his shoulders. Harry growls at the sight of them, startling the little girl in pigtails next to him once again. He turns to apologize to her and her mother as the largest screen on the stage suddenly rolls up to reveal the large constructed set which has been placed In the stadium for the blonde singer to perform.

It must be starting, Harry thinks with trepidation, his previous sense of claustrophobia dissipating in the darkness as he gets something new to focus on, rather than the space around him.

Draco’s full name appears on the largest screen in bright cursive letters and the crowd of teenagers and adults around Harry immediately goes wild and starts screaming in his ears.

“Fucking hell,” Harry mutters, accidentally ripping the paint on the black armrest of his seat.

Wincing, the werewolf glances up just in time to be able to catch Draco come down on the stage. The blonde is wearing a bright blue towel which barely reach the top of his curvy thighs. He looks up at the noisy crowd like they just caught him coming out from his bubble bath. Harry’s eyes widen when Draco’s pale hands rise to unwrap the towel from around his chest.

What the…?

Underneath the towel, Draco is wearing a strapless corseted bodysuit that looks eerily similar to a bedazzled lingerie set. Harry trails the line of Malfoy’s slender arms and cinched waist before he notices the words embroidered with gold sequins inside of the blue towel.

Short + Sweet

So cheeky, Harry thinks. But it perfectly encapsulates the way the singer looks up there tonight on the stage.

Again, the crowd goes wild at the reveal. And Harry’s heart feels the exact same way when Draco whips the towel in his direction.

With his werewolf speed and instincts, Harry catches it without even needing to take his eyes off from Malfoy, causing the scent of the group of fans next to him to spike and burst with envy and jealousy.

Draco stands on his tiptoes and waves at the large crowd in the stadium, right before he grabs his pink mic from the hovering mechanical stand which suddenly appears above him and disappears just as fast. A moment later, the blonde starts singing the first song on his setlist, capturing the attention of his audience who seems to know every word.

Oh, I know I leave quite an impression
Five-feet-one-and-three-quarters, to be precise
But it’s always been enough to steal your attention

There’s a group of backup dancers behind Draco, but all Harry sees right now is him on the stage, moving sensually and dancing with the various props that materialize around him. The blonde turns and stares at him as he sings the next part of his song ‘Taste’.

Now I'm gone, I bet you're lying in your bed
Next to her and the ghosts that haunts your nightmares
Wishing you could taste me on your lips instead

The lights dim on the stage again before the next song can begin, but Harry feels dizzy and hot already, shivering all over. Did he imagine it? Was Draco talking about him and Ginny? No, that can’t be.There’s no way the blonde could know or be aware of how Harry had felt back then after the war, completely lost and adrift, without him to obsess about. But then, there was also that daring promise at the very end of the song…or perhaps it was an offer?

I guess you'll just have to taste me
The next time we see each other

Stop it, Harry’s hind-brain sternly reminds him. That’s only wishful thinking on his part. Or parasocial behaviour, as they call it. He’s not that self-centered, right? The lyrics are not about him, he knows this for a fact, somewhere deep inside of his mind. They can’t be. It’s all just a coincidence. Or maybe he’s just projecting his own desires. That’s it!

(But then that would mean that Harry is utterly fucked, wouldn’t it? He can’t be in love with the git. That would be a complete disaster. And also very, very, stupid.)

The next song on the setlist of the concert doesn’t help to clear Harry’s delusional thoughts about the blonde. Not one bit. And neither does Draco’s babydoll outfit, which he wears over his red corset, help settle the wolf pitifully whining inside him.

When I think of you, I'm sweet, like an angel

Yeah, right. Harry scoffs, picturing a pale snake with silver scales biting down on a green apple.

I draw a thousand little hearts around our names
Head full of unbreakable vows and blue baby cradles

Malfoy turns towards him with the twirl of his babydoll dress and mimes drawing a heart with his finger. Harry audibly swallows and clenches both of his fists when the blonde singer cocks his hip with the silky warning that falls like sweet poison from his lips.

You should stay in my good graces
We’re meant to be, come on, just face it

The rest of the concert passes by in a haze for Harry after the next outfit change, which consists of a black catsuit that is form-fitting and made entirely of sheer lace. It snatches tightly around Malfoy’s waist and hugs every curve of his body, accentuating the roundness of his arsecheeks, in particular.

Harry is already half-hard in his trousers from having to watch Draco prance around in a pair of fluffy handcuffs for the performance of ‘Juno’ where the blonde singer gets arrested by a dancer and put down by him on a bed as he silkily sings the lyrics of the song and spread his thighs for the audience.

Kiss me, baby
Hold and devour me
Mark your territory

It is pure torture, honestly. Especially when Harry sees the words “Catch Me” on the soles of the singer’s shoes.

Harry also thinks that he might be going slightly deaf from all the screaming of the audience and the catcalls he hears around him by the time they reach the encore.

For this last performance, the blonde has changed into a sports jersey that looks oversized on him but still short on his petite frame. It reaches the top of his thighs and has the word London in the front and the house emblem of Slytherin in the back made out of green sequins. Underneath the loose jersey, Draco has a pair of high-waisted shorts that sparkles and shines in the light when he moves with them on the stage.

It goes well with his knee-high platform boots and the white wristband on his left forearm, which covers the faint smudge of ink on his pale skin, left over from the war.

Malfoy stands directly in front of Harry before he tilts his bejeweled microphone up towards the front of his face, his pink lips curving in a teasing manner as he stares at him in the crowd.

“This one’s for you, Scarhead.”

Harry’s mind is still reeling from the use of the familiar nickname when Draco suddenly summons a broom from behind the set of stairs on the stage. The blonde perches on it, like the excellent flyer he’s always been, before he makes it go up higher until it hovers steadily just a few feet above the floor of the stage.

Now he's thinking of me every night, oh
Is it that sweet? I guess so

It’s a Nimbus 3000, Harry notices with a start. No one in the crowd seems to realize that it’s magical. They probably just think that it has a bunch of wires attached to it or that it’s practical stage effects when the blonde straddles its length and swoops down on it in the air.

Say you can't sleep, wolfy, I know
That's that me espresso

Draco flies on the broom like he did when the two of them played Quidditch on opposite teams in Hogwarts, his grey eyes flashing in the lights and his hair flying behind him.

Rub it up, down, left, right, oh
Flick it like a Snitch to my tempo

The blonde starts chasing the little cup he conjures with his hawthorn wand (which he has kept hidden in one of his platform boots, the heathen) before it starts chasing him back, just as fast as a certain Gryffindor seeker used to do when they were both boys and house rivals in Hogwarts.

Am I that sweet? I guess so…

Finally, the blonde catches the cup and uses his wand to fill it to the brim with espresso. He then lifts the small porcelain cup to his lips and swallows the warm liquid down with a sultry moan, right before the song ends.

Mmm, that's that me espresso

Malfoy winks at Harry (he’s sure of it, this time!) before he thanks his fans for coming to tonight’s concert. The lights turn back on in the stadium just as the blonde makes his big exit from the stage, with lots of flying kisses for his fans and the promise of a new album (coming out very soon! He promises).

Harry sits there dumbly, feeling sad and slightly horny.

Why did it have to end so soon?

Is this off-kilter sensation part of the dreaded symptoms of the post-concert blues everyone talks about online when it comes to Draco’s shows?

“Why did I even come tonight…” Harry pathetically mumbles to himself as he watches a group of teenagers cry from giddiness and an odd mixture of sadhopecomfort—or at least, that’s what his wolf senses tell him—right before they leave the Wembley stadium with either their friends or their parents.

Harry is about to get up as well. It is indeed time to leave and go home. But just as the muscles of his legs flex to stand, the little girl in pigtail from earlier in the concert suddenly drops a note on his thighs, preventing his departure from his seat. The werewolf looks down at it, confused.

“It’s for you,” the dark-skinned girl sniffs primly and crosses her tiny arms in front of her doll-like dress. “Draco said to give it to the big man in the first row. That’s you, isn’t it?”

“What?” Harry asks with a small furrow in his brow. But then, the dark-haired girl starts to cry (again) and pouts in a childish manner as her tiny hand is grabbed by the tall woman next to her. Harry looks up and realizes that it’s Pansy, one of the only Slytherin girls he remembers from Hogwarts, mainly as a consequence of her close promixity to the blonde (and the fact that she tried to sell him out to Voldemort, at one point).

“Parkinson?” Harry says, still feeling lost and confused. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you, I suppose.” Pansy sneers at him before she peers down at the sobbing pug-nosed child clinging to her long pleated skirt. “Time to go, darling.”

“TAKE CARE OF DRACO FOR ME!” the little girl (who he now realizes must be Pansy’s daughter—and Zabini’s) screams at him, before being shushed and lifted by her mother.

“Is that man ‘wolfy’, Mommy? He certainly looks like one.”

“Lower you voice, honey. I bet he can hear you.”

Harry watches them leave, still loudly chattering together, completely puzzled, amazed and reassured by how little and crazy the world is sometimes. He then carefully opens the note the girl gave him, which says, in Draco’s neat handwriting:

Potter,

There’s another present waiting for you backstage.
Come get it if you dare. I’ll be In my dressing room.
You know where to find me.

♥

Draco L. Malfoy

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

When Harry finds Draco backstage after stunning three of his bodyguards, the blonde is tossing a makeup wipe into the trash bin near the fold-up chair with his name written on the back. The half-veela singer looks even more dazzling without the thick layers of matte foundation and blush on his pale skin. His long wavy hair is pinned up in a high loose bun hairdo that exposes his neck and his collarbones. He's wearing a shimmery silver bralette top with a short skirt in the same color. It looks almost like a hologram when he moves and turns towards him in the space of the dressing room. The fabric is smooth and liquidy around his short legs which look toned in his stilettos.

"Potter."

"Malfoy." Harry breathes softly as he approaches him in the cramped room.

"Glad to see you could make it."

“Yeah.”

“What did you think of the concert?” Draco asks, propping his back against the smooth surface of the wall.

“You...You were amazing out there,” Harry admits, stepping closer to the blonde.

“I was?”

“Yes,” Harry grunts, his large hands tentatively grabbing the blonde's slender waist. Malfoy doesn't push him away at all. In fact, the blonde presses himself closer to his body. The dark pupils in his silver eyes dilate even more and swallow the bright grey color inside them as he cranes his pale neck up to meet Harry's eyes.

Harry leans in to capture his lips, aching to touch him. To taste him, finally.

It's grounding when their lips meet, when Harry breathes him in and feels the warmth of the other’s skin on his fingertips. He wants more, so he takes it. He kisses Malfoy deep and slow, his tongue dipping into his mouth, before he tightens his grip on the other’s waist. Malfoy can only gasp for breath, his thigh gliding against Harry’s as he moans and shudders underneath him with his back pressed against the wall.

Harry savors the breathy sound Malfoy makes, the way his small hands seem to scramble to hang onto his broad shoulders, too high for him to grab. He breaks away to look down at him, reaching out to brush his thumb on the other’s lips.

For what feels like the very first time, Harry is able to admire Malfoy’s face from up close, without having to look away or suppress his emotions. He takes in those entrancing eyes framed by long, heavy lashes, the smooth arch of his regal nose, those divine pink lips begging to be devoured by his own, the tiny freckles on his skin from his time spent filming in the sun. The most beautiful face he has ever seen.

Malfoy stares back at him with the exact same hunger and intensity, his eyes half closed and mouth open.

Something stirs deep within Harry, a feeling he can no longer ignore or resist.

He grabs the blonde singer by the back of his neck and dives in to taste him again, this time with more vigor and passion, his tongue thrusting inside him.

“Even more sweet than I dreamed it would be,” Harry groans into Malfoy’s mouth before grabbing both of his thighs so they can easily wrap around his torso.

Malfoy lets out a surprised squeak, but quickly matches Harry’s fervor, his pink tongue moving against his. Endorphins and magic thrum through their veins and their chest, their breathing growing heavier. Malfoy pushes him backwards to switch up their position, his hand slipping under Harry’s shirt as he presses him to the wall.

Summoning every last drop of willpower he has left, Harry gently pushes the blonde away to stop him before things can move further in the dressing room.

“Do you,” Harry breaks off, groaning softly into Malfoy's hair as he rests his forehead against the other’s. "Do you want us to get out of here?”

"Yes," Draco smiles at him, the soft look on his face somehow brighter and more blinding than the sudden flash of the cameras, catching them backstage together.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter Share A Steamy Kiss Backstage Amid Dating Rumors (August 5, 2006 – People Magazine)

After months of speculation, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter have seemingly confirmed their mutual attraction (and secret relationship). Blurry footage surfaced after the singer’s concert in London, showing the two of them engaged in a heated kiss backstage at the end of his show at the Wembley Stadium, sending fans into a complete frenzy on social media.

The hashtag #Drarry started trending worldwide last night with over 300k posts.

The momentous event, which fans aptly titled ‘The Short n’ Sweet Kiss’, was decorated with tiny heart-shaped balloons and rose petals and transformed into a series of GIFs and edited images, which were then posted and shared by netizens online, on both Twitter and Instagram.

Following the intimate meeting, the pair seemingly disappeared into thin air from the stadium, leaving the crew of reporters waiting for them backstage completely befuddled.

([Click here to see their vanishing act captured on video. How spooky and strange!])

Regardless, the undeniable chemistry of the pair and the steamy kiss they shared backstage at the end of the Short n’ Sweet concert have only fueled ongoing dating rumors. Good for them, we say, as we all cheer and celebrate with some champagne.

Speculations about the duo’s relationship began earlier this summer when they were first seen talking together while planning their ‘secret’ collaboration for the blonde’s new song ‘Espresso’, at Lupine headquarters in London. Malfoy recently addressed the rumors in an interview he did for Vogue at the beginning of July, where he was asked directly about his rekindled relationship with Potter. Instead of confirming or denying the fan theories and rumors, the singer responded: “I’m a grown man and an artist. I know that people love to know everything about me and my personal life. I have nothing against my fans making a few theories. But I need my privacy too.”

At the time, Malfoy successfully managed to sidestep the tricky question, keeping the details of his personal life private, as well as avoiding delving into his complicated past with Potter in the numerous interviews he did since then, as part of the huge promotion for his new single ‘Espresso’.

However, with this new footage of the pair engaging in public displays of affection, fans believe the relationship is no longer just a rumor. It is true.

Harry Potter has yet to publicly acknowledge his feelings for the blonde singer (although he was spotted by fans at his concert, in the first row of the stadium [click here to see the gallery of pictures captured by attendees]), and neither has he explicitly confirmed a relationship with Malfoy. But their recent interactions at Draco’s concert (particularly during his songs ‘Good Graces’, ‘Bed Chem’, and ‘Espresso’) strongly suggest that they are more than just friends (or rivals!).

Whether or not they will put an official label on their relationship remains to be seen in the future, but meanwhile, their affectionate moments (and heated kiss!) have certainly caught the public’s attention.

FOR MORE INFO:

Click here to watch the pair get steamy and tanned on the beach in the most recent behind-the-scenes teaser the blonde singer posted on Instagram for the music video of his song ‘Espresso’!

Chapter Text

Harry holds Draco in his arms as he Disapparates them both from the stadium.

Without even needing to lift his wand, which he nearly always forgets at home anyway, Harry takes them straight to Grimmauld Place, where they land inside his bedroom.

He immediately pushes Draco up against the wall and moves to kiss the curve of his neck. His hands reach under Malfoy’s skirt where he cups his round arse and squeezes both cheeks with his palms. He slides up his thumb between Draco’s thighs and finds him wet in his underwear. Harry pushes the thin fabric away to stroke him, causing Malfoy to jump slightly at the touch and gasp sharply underneath him.

“Wait- hold on- Potter. Stop!” Draco puts his hands on Harry’s broad chest, forcing him to stop moving his finger inside his drenched underwear.

“What is it?” Harry growls, licking the wetness from his fingertip, which he sucks and brings to his lips.

“I-um…I’ve never done this before.”

Draco darts his eyes away from his face, his thighs trembling slightly as he stands on his tiptoes in his heels, his hands barely able to reach the back of Harry’s neck.

“With anyone,” the blonde adds, his pale throat moving in the light.

“What?” Harry blinks, confused. “But you…You wrote all those songs about sex!”

“Yes…I just have a very active imagination. It’s a secret talent of mine. One of many, as you now know.”

“So you’ve never ever…”

“No, I haven’t.” Draco sighs, sounding frustrated as he unzips his heels and tosses them away with a kick, losing at least four inches of his previous height. “But I’m not completely inexperienced, Potter. I do have some lube in my drawer and a lot of toys in my flat that are nearly as big as yours is, I bet. So yes, I do know what I like. Don’t worry about that.”

“Fuck, Draco...” Harry’s voice trails off as he imagines the blonde pleasuring himself with a dildo.

“That’s the idea, Potter. Come on.”

“Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes,” Draco huffs, pinching him. “Don’t make me ask again.”

Prat, Harry thinks fondly as he lifts him up in his arms.

Malfoy's back hits the pillows with a muted thump when Harry drops him on the bed. The blonde lets out a surprised yelp when Harry accidentally rips apart his silver skirt with his claws. “Sorry,” Harry says, not sounding sorry at all as then he removes the ruined fabric of Malfoy’s skirt in a single pull. The blonde's silver bralette and underwear get thrown to the side of the bed too.

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry sighs, enjoying the view he has of the other. Malfoy’s body looks small and delicate on the dark fabric of his duvet.

Harry commits every single curve of it to his memory, his fingers reverently tracing the faint scars on the other’s chest. He wants to say something about them, but Malfoy stops him with a look.

“I know.”

Malfoy’s legs get pushed open by the werewolf to make space for him between them. Harry looks down at Draco as he covers him with the heavy weight of his torso and slowly unzips his own pants.

“Off, off!” The blonde frantically tugs at the bottom of Harry’s ratty shirt until the werewolf finally gets the memo and vanishes it along with the rest of his clothes and his shoes.

Malfoy's eyes dart across the front of Harry's broad shoulders and muscular chest. His hungry gaze follows the thick hair he has on his torso. He parts his lips in pure awe as his silver eyes land on the pronounced v of Harry's abs, which only get emphasized and put even more on display when the werewolf leans back on the bed and flexes for him with the sound of a cheeky hum, clearly pleased to be ogled at.

“Show off.” Malfoy scoffs, smiling.

“I learned from the best.” Harry smirks.

“That’s right.”

The shift in Malfoy’s scent reaches Harry a moment later. He gasps involuntarily, his fingers twitching as blood flow straight to his cock once again.

Harry closes his eyes, his nostrils flaring as he slides his face down on the other’s neck, his black curls tangling with the blonde’s. The real scent of the half-veela -- now that it isn’t underpinned by the overpowering vanilla flavor of Malfoy's lipstick on his lips -- is even more all-consuming and erotic when it’s this close to Harry's nose and smell receptors.

"You are the most intoxicating creature I have ever met, Malfoy." Harry breathes the blonde in slowly, before running his fingers through the slick that shimmers on the other's cunt. "I’ve wanted to do this to you ever since I saw you in that miniskirt in my office.”

“Me too.” Draco’s lips brush against his cheek, bafflingly soft and sweet.

Overwhelmed by the touch, Harry lets out a shocked moan, feeling his hips buck up involuntarily at the delicate feeling of them on his nose, across his chin, and then on his scarred forehead, where they stop for a gentle peck.

"You have no idea how you make me feel," Harry admits, his lips trembling against the blonde's ear.

"No?" Draco's pale hand slowly reaches for his length, caressing it like it’s precious as their eyes meet again. "So tell me, Harry. How do I make you feel?”

"Good," Harry moans as the blonde's fingers slide down around him, cupping his balls softly before circling back up to the tip. “So good.”

"Always?" Draco teases, smearing the pearly beads of pre-cum that are dripping from the slit of Harry’s dick. His dainty palm tightens around Harry's shaft before he smirks at him and asks once again, “Are you sure?”

"Not always." Harry closes his eyes and groans in pain and pleasure. "Most of the time, you drive me utterly mad and obsessed with whatever you’re up to. I can’t stop thinking about you."

"How so? Tell me, wolfy." Draco raises his hips and moves over him until his pussy starts to drip over Harry's cock. He's so wet that his thighs are shining from all the slick liquid he’s producing from his entrance.

"Look at you, Draco. That's how.” Harry grunts, admiring the blonde on his lap. “You drive me fucking insane. You’re so competent at whatever you want to do on the first try. And I just always, fuck—"

Choking, Harry helplessly watches as Draco starts to slide the wet folds of his cunt on one side of his throbbing cock. With the way he moves above him, you wouldn’t think he’s a virgin. But Harry can see the way the blonde trembles in shock as more slick oozes out from his opening. Harry wants to fuck into it so badly and tear it apart until it holds the shape of his cock. It looks so small and tempting, so wet and pink and soft.

Mate, the werewolf screams inside him, clawing at his ribcage.

Claim. Mark. Mine. It repeats non-stop in his head.

Minemineminemine—

Harry growls it out without meaning to, his fingers digging into Malfoy’s skin. His hands create large imprints on the slender waist of the blonde as he lowers his head to scent the side of his neck again.

"Yes, yours." Draco murmurs with a moan as he swings his hips upward and rubs his clit on the veiny length of Harry's cock.

Harry grabs Malfoy by the wrists and pushes him down on the mattress, teasing his nipples with his pecs.

“I’m yours too. Your mate. You know that, right? That means I'll take good care of you."

"Yes--ah!" Malfoy cries out as Harry's mouth descends upon his virgin cunt. Harry licks through the warm wetness he finds there, his fingers gripping Malfoy’s thighs to keep them from circling his head. He hums and sucks his way up the folds to the other's clit, rutting his cock on the mattress.

"Haa...This feels so good, Malfoy. You're so soft on the inside. I could do this all day..."

Draco convulses slightly in his hold, his face flushed and his cunt feeling raw and oversensitive as Harry's tongue swipes against his clit without stopping, the pressure and pace unrelenting.

"You were right in your song." Harry breaks off, panting, his wet lips trailing up on the blonde's inner thigh. "You taste so fucking sweet."

Harry dives back down like a man possessed, his nose grazing Draco's pubic hair (which is blonde like his hair, of course). The werewolf sinks his tongue in the other's cunt, probing roughly through the wet, shiny folds.

"Haa...hmph...hm...aah!"

Malfoy goes boneless on the bed, gasping up at the ceiling as he clenches his fist around Harry's hair, his fingers tugging on the curls.

Harry rumbles appreciatively at how responsive and loud the blonde is. The deep vibrations of his voice against Malfoy’s clit cause the blonde’s eyes to roll backward, his sharp nails scratching Harry’s shoulders as he screams and comes on his tongue.

Malfoy bucks his hips up slightly afterwards and seems utterly amazed that Harry’s mouth is still firmly latched onto the clit of his cunt.

“Ah—ah---Harry! It’s too much!” Malfoy whines as the werewolf licks and nips at his clitoris.

The blonde starts shifting his hips under the weight of Harry’s hands as the werewolf kisses the prickling heat of his pussy, fluids dripping from his chin.

“Please, Potter! Have some mercy and just fuck me!”

“I will soon,” Harry says, sliding up above the blonde and leaning down over him to capture Malfoy’s lips with his teeth.

The possessive haze overtakes Harry’s senses again as Draco kisses him back just as fierce, a bruising pressure against his lips that belies the soft, ‘short and sweet’ appearance the blonde has carefully cultivated as a half-veela and singer.

“Look how wet you are for me,” Harry says when they finally break off, his bottom lip bruised and bleeding from a tiny cut that heals in a second.

Malfoy moans at the first finger Harry slips into him, the thick digit sliding in easily.

Harry immediately pulls it out and adds a second, testing the stretch and the wetness of Malfoy’s pussy as the blonde starts to squirm on his fingers.

“You’re so tight,” Harry trails off, sounding awed, “Did you save yourself for me? For a chance this would happen someday?”

Draco fights back a full-body shiver and flush with little success. He hides his face in Harry’s shoulder before he finally moves his lips on his skin to say, “Yes.”

“It’s the biggest honor.”

Shy, veela pleasure fills his scent suddenly, deepening and sweetening until Harry is nearly drunk on it and going feral over him. The bond they share together as mates buzzes and thrums around them with an unknowable form of magic. Harry slowly lines his cock over the other, drinking in the sight of the blonde.

Malfoy audibly whines as his eyes lock onto the thick, straining line of Harry’s cock, which is now pushing against the front of his stomach and leaking slightly from the tip.

"I need you inside me."

Fresh slick drips from between his short legs, its scent unmistakable to Harry, who quickly pushes them apart once again to watch the sweet fluids pulse out from Malfoy’s cunt in transparent and thin rivulets.

"Stop staring at it and fuck me. Or do I have to beg?" Draco snarls softly with a glint of challenge in his eyes, his wet entrance clenching under Harry's undivided attention.

Harry's eyes flash at the other’s tone, grip tightening on the pale thighs underneath him.

"Maybe I just want to hear it again."

The blonde squeezes his eyes shut and groans. "Please, fuck me, Potter! Or else-"

Half a second later, Malfoy is face down on the mattress and moaning into the thick duvet of the bed as the werewolf roughly spread his cheeks and his pussy. Harry's fingers slide back into the blonde and curl slightly inside of his walls, causing him to squirt on the covers.

"I don't want to hurt you,” Harry says, a soft, almost-growl he presses on the pale unmarked skin of the other's neck.

"You won't." The blonde insists, his pale thighs still trembling from the spasms he felt in his cunt.

"You'll be able to take my knot, won't you?”

Malfoy shivers, clenching down involuntarily on his fingers. “How big does it get?"

"You'll see," Harry promises with the teasing flick of his tongue on the bejeweled earlobe of the other. "Guess I'll have to show you."

"When will you fucking do it—"

Malfoy's voice abruptly cuts off in a moan, before it turns into a sharp, pitiful whine as Harry pulls his fingers out of him perhaps a bit too quickly, causing the blonde to clench down around nothing for a painfully long second. “H-Harry…please….”

Behind him, Harry makes a soft, crooning noise. "I got you," he reminds him, his lips brushing against Draco’s thin shoulder.

His hand, still sticky with veela slick, presses into the dip of Malfoy's spine as he slowly guides his shaft to his entrance.

"Yes," Draco hisses, raising his hips to welcome him.

Finally, the head of Harry's cock breaches the blonde, sliding in with ease as more slick gushes down from between the other’s legs. Harry could have never guessed or known that half-veelas like Draco produced so much slick from their entrance.

In hindsight, though, it made sense. The body of a veela is rumored to have the ability to transform to fit the needs of their mate.

Or so Hermione mentioned to him at some point. Probably.

And since Harry is a lot bigger than most men (in general, but also when it comes to the size of his cock), it means that the half-veela in Draco needs something to ease their first coupling.

Still, Harry is extra careful with the blonde and gentler than he tends to be, despite the domineering werewolf instincts he has in him, which are telling him to just take and claim the precious prize his mate is offering.

Malfoy stretches slowly around him, the pressure and intensity of it stopping just short of being too much for the two of them. They moan in unison as Harry finally bottoms out in the blonde. Malfoy clenches down around the girth of his cock, as though testing the link and physical connection he has with Harry.

"Good?” Harry asks the blonde, gently grazing his sharp teeth against the back of his slender neck, the blonde curls trailing from the other’s nape soft and slightly damp on his fingers.

Malfoy nods, clearly unable to express all the emotions he feels flowing through him and his body. He lets out a stuttering gasp that quickly turns into a loud moan as Harry roughly brushes his lips on the side of his pale throat and gently nips the skin with his canine teeth.

“You feel so perfect around me,” Harry says, his tone reassuring, before smoothing a hand down on the pale stomach of the blonde. "Look at you and this little bump. That's me, right there. You’re taking me so well, Draco. Like you were made just for me."

"Oh god, yes—yes!" Draco starts crying as his cunt convulses around Harry’s thick shaft.

"Can I start moving?" Harry asks, soothing the blonde with a tender kiss on his nape.

Malfoy nods at him, blinking away the fresh tears shining on his lashes as he turns and presses his warm cheek on the cold surface of the pillow.

Before the blonde can start to panic or grow tense, Harry snaps his hips up, sliding in and out of him with a slick, testing thrust. He pulls out and does it again, repeating the motion, before finally finding his own rhythm.

“Look, I’m doing it, Malfoy. I’m fucking you hard like you wanted. Is it good?”

"Merlin, Salazar - ah!" Malfoy presses his face harder into the moist surface of his forearm, moaning out in pain and pleasure as tears stream down on his face again, his cheeks hot and flushed and so perfect.

“You're mine now,” Harry repeats, maintaining a steady, unrelenting pace of perfectly angled thrusts into the blonde's throbbing cunt. "Mine to claim and to breed. You want that from me, don’t you? It's what you said in your song ‘Juno’.”

Malfoy doesn't respond to him with actual words this time since he's too busy drooling on the covers. He parts his lips a bit wider to gasp and clenches his eyes shut as he rides the waves of his pleasure.

His sweet veela scent responds to Harry’s words, however. It grows heavy and thick with approval. Interesting, Harry thinks, pocketing that idea for another time.

Heat prickles across Harry's skin as his enhanced werewolf senses pick up the speed of the blonde's heart rate and the quickening pace of his respiration. He follows the fast, hiccupping stream of sharp inhales and exhales that are coming out from Malfoy’s mouth as the blonde moves and cants his hips to meet every thrust.

Harry can feel the thick bulb of his knot swelling in response to the other's scent, now spiking with possessiveness. Mine-mate-forever-please, it sings inside of his lungs, mirroring his own desires.

"Here it comes," Harry growls, leaning back to watch it catch inside the walls of the other's cunt. "That's it, Draco. I knew you could take me."

With the sound of a high-pitched moan, Malfoy comes without warning, clenching down hard around Harry's knot. His pink cunt throbs around Harry's length, leaking slick profusely around the thick girth as it continues to slide inside him.

"Fuck." Harry groans as he empties himself inside the shivering blonde. He turns to the side to watch as Malfoy's stomach slowly fills up and swells with his come, picturing it even rounder still.

"Say it,” Harry grunts, something dark and possessive in his voice as his lips brush against the other's pulse. "Say you're mine, Malfoy, please."

“Yours,” Malfoy mumbles before turning his face towards him. "Overgrown hairy mutt. You lived up to my fantasies."

"Really?"

"Yes."

The blonde bites the sated grin on Harry’s lips as the werewolf nuzzles his cheek and laces their hands together on the surface of his pale torso.

“Likewise, shortie.”

Chapter Text

Another Double Shot of ‘Espresso’: Draco Malfoy Tops Both Billboard Global Charts With New Summer Single (August 10, 2006 – Billboard Magazine)

Draco Malfoy makes history (again!) as Espresso hits Number 1 on both global charts for a third week since its release. Two other songs from his recent album ‘Short n’ Sweet’ are also featured in the Top 10.

#1 - Espresso
#2 - Juno
#5 - Taste

‘Taste’ and ‘Juno’ have kept their steady spots on the Top 10 chart since their release earlier this year in late March. Or at least that was until Draco dethroned his own song ‘Juno’ from the Number 1 spot on the Billboard Charts last month in July.

(→ See the Billboard Global 200 chart + Billboard Global Excl. U.S. chart posted online for the weeks of July 25 and August 1 ←)

With this new addition, Malfoy breaks the record for most consecutive weeks spent in the Top 10 and also the one for most top positions simultaneously occupied by a single artist.

Draco’s success on the music charts also extends to his most recent collaboration with Lupine.

The London-based coffeehouse company saw a mega boost in sales and revenue after the release of Draco’s limited edition ‘Espresso’ drink this summer. Sales analysis reports show that Lupine saw a 300% increase in sales in the month of July, a large number (in terms of both trends and profit) that is forecasted to double in August.

Therefore, ‘Espresso’ is here to stay this summer, in many forms and flavors, on both the charts and our taste buds.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Harry hears a soft knock on the door of his office at the Lupine headquarters. He can already tell that it's Hermione by the soft undertones of her scent, which contains notes of Rose (hazelnut) and Ron (firewood and ash) too.

“Come in,” Harry grunts, sipping on the honey-infused espresso (of Draco) that was released this month from Lupine. He winces slightly as he swallows the cold and frothy liquid. It's way too sweet for him. He much prefers the taste of the blonde himself.

“Have you seen the music video yet?” Hermione asks as she enters and makes her way to his cluttered desk.

“I haven't,” Harry confesses to her with another wince. He's been quite busy lately with Draco, so he's had no time at all to think about the scheduled MV release that was part of their collaboration.

“Let's watch it together,” Hermione offers, picking up the remote on the coffee table near his desk, which she raises to turn on the large screen in Harry's office.

Harry has no choice but to grunt and agree.

He leans forward on his desk and watches her type Draco's name on the search bar of Youtube with the word 'Espresso' next to it.

The music video is already at the top of the search results with over half a billion views. Harry blinks at the insane numbers. It's only been two weeks, right?

“How is that possible?”

“I told you it would be a hit, Harry!” Hermione grins at him with her trademark know-it-all spark shining in her deep brown eyes.

There are also a bunch of reaction videos from fans and interviews underneath it, which Hermione ignores completely in favor of clicking the actual music video itself, featuring Draco and Harry.

“It's starting!”

“I can see that.” Harry pouts petulantly as his green eyes dart back to the screen in his office.

The video begins with a shot of Draco in a bikini. He's on a boat with a skinny bloke who has long brown hair tied up in a ponytail. The blonde singer tosses the man overboard (and steals his credit card from his bag) before driving the boat to a long stretch of sand he spots in the distance.

Next, we get a quick montage of Draco spending his days on the beach for the duration of the summer. He's seen flirting with people, dancing with girls, and checking out the blokes on the beach. But then Harry, who plays an undercover cop who thinks the blonde is up to something, suddenly appears on the screen. He's there for his investigation into the death of the long-haired bloke who was tossed overboard by the blonde. Draco is spending money outrageously with the man's credit card, which he stole from his bag earlier in the video.

It clearly makes Harry (aka: the cop) suspicious.

“I'm not a fool, Malfoy,” Harry mutters as he narrows his eyes on the smirking blonde in the video. “Of course, I know you're up to something.”

“Really, Harry?” Hermione tuts, smiling. “In every timeline and universe, it happens for the two of you, doesn't it?”

So finally, Harry, or at least the undercover character he plays on the screen, decides to follow the blonde across the beach in order to get real proof about his wrongdoings.

Of course, Draco uses his perfect little body to try to distract him. The singer even flirts with him to throw him off his scent about the murder. Harry rapidly becomes obsessed with the blonde in the video.

Thankfully, Harry (or his character, dammit!) eventually comes to his senses and arrests the short blonde on the beach with a pair of shiny handcuffs.

The video ends with the two of them entering his police car. Draco puts his high heels up on the headrest right behind Harry's seat as they drive off into the sunset together, presumably towards a police station.

“Please tell me the two of you got together after this,” Hermione comments as the credits start to roll.

“Well, you've already seen the headlines, I bet.”

Who hadn't? It was all over the news (both on paper and online) and still trending on social media too. Their short and sweet kiss after the concert has been a hot topic recently with Muggles and wizarding folks.

Harry secretly printed the pictures he found of them on the internet. But Hermione didn't need to know that.

“I was hoping you'd eventually tell me what happened.”

“You can probably guess.” Harry crosses his arms over his chest with a little smirk on his lips.

Hermione rolls her eyes at the look she sees on his face. And then, she sighs and shakes her head at him with a fond and exasperated smile before she grabs her cellphone from the back pocket of her pencil skirt.

“Spare me the details, please. I'm just happy you finally stopped being a broody bachelor.”

“Who are you texting?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

“No one!”

Harry sniffs and frowns at her. “You're lying.”

“Okay, fine! Look.” Hermione shows him the screen of her cellphone.

Harry squints at it before he bends forward in his chair to glare closely at the words and the laughing-crying emojis that keep popping on the screen.

“All this time...You've been betting against me and Malfoy?!”

See, he was right, after all. She indeed is a traitor.

“No, Harry.” Hermione clicks her tongue at the nasty scowls she sees on his face, before she corrects him with the diplomatic tilt of her smooth eyebrows. “I've been betting for this to happen before the month of September. Ron was less optimistic.“

“I really hate you all. Betrayers!” Harry huffs as he folds his muscular arms over the front of his chest again. “You're worse than Slytherins.”

“Don't be such a drama queen, Harry. It doesn't suit a big 'wolfy' like you.”

“Shove off!” Harry grumbles. Only Malfoy can call me that, he almost says before he abstains. Instead, Harry peers over the top of his glasses, his lips pursed and brows pinching together.

“What do I get for making you win this bet then? You owe me something.”

“You get Malfoy all to yourself. How about that?” Hermione shoots back, stifling a laugh. “Pretty sure that's the best reward you can hope for, isn't it?”

Hermione is right, Harry can't help but agree and internally admit to himself.

She is the brightest witch of her age for a reason. Who else could have come up with a crazy plan like a collaboration to help him realize his feelings for Malfoy?

Harry watches her leave his office with the sound of a loud cackle as she lifts her phone and calls Ron.

With a disgruntled sigh, Harry turns back to the large screen on the wall in front of his desk and clicks 'replay' on the music video of 'Espresso'.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

That’s That Draco Malfoy Espresso (August 18, 2006 – Vanity Fair Magazine)

Cheeky lyrics, summery outfits, frothy drinks, and a headline-grabbing budding romance with the mysterious Harry Potter. The Short n’ Sweet singer does it all.

In his upcoming deluxe version album, aptly titled ‘Deluxe Mini Espresso’ as a nod to his own petite stature and his recent collaboration with the coffee chain company, Lupine, Malfoy taps into a playful energy that fans have embraced as his new style of music.

“The songs of this new album don’t have my usual brand of snark and bitterness, which I know my fans love. Still, it looks like my song ‘Espresso’ resonated with a lot of people when I performed it at the end of my U.K. tour in London.”

Many fans recall that iconic performance of ‘Espresso’. The Sweet n’ Short concert that night ended with the blonde singer kissing Harry Potter backstage for the first time in front of our eyes. The world went crazy over the steamy pictures, which spread everywhere online, before the ensuing romance between the star and the CEO was confirmed by them in the media.

“It might shock my fans to know that it's the realest song I ever wrote in my life. I often come up with lyrics related to my own fantasies, whether it be about sex, friendship or the endless mistakes from my past, which I often wished I could magically fix or erase. Like this mark on my arm, for instance. But with this new album, I dug deep inside myself and took inspiration from my own experiences. The words you’ll find in my lyrics are the closest you’ll ever get to seeing my true self—in its most stupid, desperate, flirtatious and vulnerable form.”

“Finding someone who sees me as I am, beneath all the fame, the glitz and the glam, gave me all the confidence I needed to explore those sides of myself and show my fans who I really am—or want to be as a person,” Draco says while daintily sipping on his honey-flavored espresso, courtesy of Lupine. “I don’t think of myself as a monster or as an eternally sad person anymore. For the most part, I feel very much like myself again, even though there are still moments where I’m nervous about the future and the next steps of my career.”

The blonde popstar recently announced a new world tour which will begin in Europe, before moving on to Asia for more tour dates scheduled in December, with the promise of brand new and fun performances.

“Like the title of my debut album said, I am still keeping my ‘eyes wide open’ to new things and opportunities. I can’t wait to share more of my new vision to the world and my fans. There is more to life and music than just plain heartbreak and sad songs. I hope to continue to prove that with my next album. Keep your eyes open for me, people. I’ll blow your mind for sure!”

(Click here to see all the outfits Draco has worn on his tour this year!)

As for us, we can’t wait to find out what Draco has planned for his new concerts. We have no doubt that he’ll keep his word to his fans and dazzle us with many sweet surprises in the future.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“What do you think about this headline?” Draco drops the news article he received by owl this morning right on top of the werewolf's lap, before wrapping his pale hands on both sides of his narrow waist.

Harry scans the words on the page, his soft, sated grin slowly growing wider on his tired face as he reads more about his boyfriend.

“A headline-grabbing romance, huh?”

Harry finally turns towards Draco and is pleased to find him standing before him with a tiny, genuine smile gracing the bottom half of his perfect face.

“You bet.”

“Maybe I’ll steal your thunder soon and outshine you with my coffee,' Harry says, teasing the other.

“In your dreams, Potter.” Draco scoffs, playfully shoving the werewolf’s shoulders with his much smaller hands.

Harry lets himself fall on the bed with a loud, exaggerated thump paired with the sound of a little 'oof', just to make Draco laugh again. It immediately works like a charm, filling the space of the bedroom with his new favorite sound.

“I especially love the part about you sipping the honey-favored espresso I made with you this summer, for Lupine. Very subtle of them to include that, by the way. They even mention the way you drank it in a dainty manner.”

“How else am I supposed to drink an espresso?”

“With me, in bed.” Harry suggestively growls at the blonde, before encasing his burly arms around Draco’s slender waist.

“Does it come with breakfast?” Draco asks while grazing his sharp veela nails on the back of Harry’s scalp in just the way he knows always makes the werewolf purr like a kitten.

“That and more.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” Harry hums as he shoves the brightly colored magazine off from his lap to make space for his smirking boyfriend.

“Scared of what’s coming next, Potter?”

“With you?” Harry lifts his chin and brings their lips together. “You wish.”

“You never have doubts about this?” Draco asks as he settles on the werewolf’s lap. “About us?”

“Never,” Harry says, reassuring the possessive, veela instincts that sometimes come out of his boyfriend.

Draco sighs and smiles into the kiss he shares with Harry—his soulmate—before it begins to stray away from the short and sweet kind of snogging, and instead moves towards nipping, tasting and moaning territory, driving them crazy for each other, voice and breath low and rough.

Gasping, the blonde suddenly jolts on Harry’s thighs and pulls away from the steamy kiss as he seems to get struck by a spark of inspiration for the lyrics of a song that's been stuck inside of his head lately.

It’s another one about them and the true meaning of “chemistry”.

But this time, as he later explains to Harry (after their fourth round of lovemaking), it’s not just a simple love song that he’s been pushed to write by his label.

This one is true.

And it’s theirs.

Like a dream that came true after many years of patiently waiting for 'the one'.

The one that makes you act crazy and foolish, the one that makes you ache, the one that makes it all worth it. The one you want to end up with.

The melody of the song is sweet and bitter like espresso, brewed for him every morning. The last verse of it is paired with the warm comfort of ‘always’ teasingly wrapping around them and the anchoring feeling of strong arms, which can only belong to Harry. His Harry.

“Harry,” Draco says softly, listening to the steady chorus of heartbeats he feels on the cheek resting on the werewolf’s chest. “Thank you for being here.”

Harry looks back at him with a smile that says everything.

Always.