darkravenwrote: (rose)
[personal profile] darkravenwrote
Author: [livejournal.com profile] darkravenwrote
Title: Lazy Days
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Word Count: 705
Rating: T
Warnings: Nope
Prompt: For my ‘Lazy’ tile on GYWO Bingo.
Author’s Notes: This one flowed out fairly easily. Pretty content with how it turned out.
Summary: It’s been so long since Harry’s had a holiday, he’s forgotten how.


Harry used to like the weekend. But that was before he started working at the ministry and devoting so much time to his mature relationship. Now his Saturdays are full of reporters and admin overtime and his Sundays are tense hours spent hiding behind newspapers in Narcissa Malfoy's sun room. His brain won't even turn off when he's asleep; it's too busy reminding him of nightmares from the past. He's beginning to despair that Malfoy hasn't even noticed, or doesn't care enough for his happiness that he bothers saying anything about it.

But, "We should go on holiday," Draco says one day. He's looking at Harry, pensively.

They've just returned home from their monthly Sunday lunch with the Weasleys, and although Harry loves them dearly he'll admit it's one of the most tiring parts of his month. He's still half in his wet coat, stuck with one arm in its sleeve and a button that won't come undone no matter how his free hand plucks at it. There's a streak of green floo powder attached to his fringe and Harry's pretty sure he's got gravy down the front of his shirt.

Nevertheless, Draco stares at him, waiting for a reply, utterly endeared.

"Why would you say that?" Harry says once he's got his coat off, because no one has ever accused him of being unsupportive. Draco's working towards receiving some distinguished potions prize or another, and gossip at the ministry tells Harry he's nearly there. Draco doesn't have time for a holiday.

"Because you need a break," Draco murmurs, giving into his perfectionism and stroking the green out of Harry's hair fondly.

"You can't afford the time off work," Harry says around Draco's fingers, which are flicking crumbs from around his mouth. God he's a mess, why has Draco even bothered staying around. He feels like some old grandpa who needs constant supervision. Draco's touch is never condescending though, even in this. It's always sweet and well meaning, like he doesn't care what he's doing it's just always a pleasure to touch Harry.

"You're more important. I can go for the prize next year, there's no hurry." Even as he says it, Harry can see -- no matter how much truth may be behind what he's saying -- that that isn't what Draco wants to do. But he would, for Harry.

"I'll tell Kingsley I'm taking some time off," he compromises. He doesn't like taking time off. As Second at the auror department even taking the weekends leaves him behind everyone else. He spends most of Mondays catching up with what he's missed as it is. Harry hates being clueless. But he's wracked up so many holiday hours Kingsley won't be able complain.

"You should, it'll be good for you."

"If your mother doesn't mind, we could skip next Sunday as well?"

"And I'll help you press-dodge on Saturday." Draco lights up at the prospect. He continues mischievously, "Like the old days."

"It'll be good for us," Harry agrees.

Monday turns out to feel very odd. It's been so long since he's had nothing to do, Harry's forgotten how to have a day off. He skitters around their little house restlessly like a puppy until, before he knows it, Draco is flooing home. Tuesday isn't much better; Draco offered up his book collection the night before but he ends up sitting at his desk flicking through reports anyway. Rightfully, Draco admonishes him when he gets home.

Draco comes home early on Wednesday. They play sloppy Quidditch in their garden until the sun sets, then cast flames in the air to see their picnic by. It jolts Harry into remembering what fun is, and what he enjoys doing.

Thursday he visits Ginny at the Harpies practice field and they go out for drinks at one of their old haunts without worrying about changing out of their muddy robes. He gets back late with a healthy buzz to find Draco already in bed with his book and customary glass of brandy.

"That's more like it," he whispers into Harry's skin a while later, tucking his arm under Harry's head like Harry's something precious he needs to protect. Harry thinks it was silly of him to ever doubt Draco Malfoy. He notices everything.

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