Ending The Sacred Twenty-Eight (Dramione)

Draco's Still Falling

(...) Draco excused himself and ran to the fireplace in the entrance Hall, flooing home so quickly he got dizzy when he landed in his flat’s living room.

But that day wasn’t over yet – oh, no.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Draco shouted.

Right there on his sofa, the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice was half-naked on top of Theodore Nott.

Draco watched a half-naked Harry Potter – with no shirt and his cock out of his unfastened jeans – jump off of Theo and took a moment to seriously question if he hadn’t suffered an accident two months ago and had been living inside a nightmare ever since.

“For my dinner's sake, get dressed, Potter!” Draco growled.

“Hey, man!” greeted Theo, fastening his pants as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. “I thought you’d be at the Manor.”

“I was.” He replied between gritted teeth, massaging his own temples, feeling a strong headache starting. “I had dinner there. But I live here, Theodore.”

Harry, now properly dressed, sat beside Theo on the sofa and Draco turned his back on them, refusing to look at Potter right then and walking to the liquor cabinet instead, unsure if he wanted to deal with Theodore's mess on top of all the messes in his own life already.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Theo said, not even trying to look embarrassed. “I forgot that you no longer live with-“

“Stop talking, Nott!” Draco ordered, glancing at the man beside his friend.

“So,” Theo continued, ignoring the elephant in the room – a.k.a the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Snog-Him. “How was dinner at your parents’? Are you alright?”

“No.” Draco shook his head and barked a heavy laugh, pouring a half-full glass of firewhisky. “I had quite a day, Theo... then had to share dinner with my parents and fiancée which ended with banoffee pie. And I thought that would be the lowest point of my night but clearly I was very very wrong. Nothing is so bad it can’t get worse.” He finally looked at the couple on the sofa and sipped some more firewhisky, before deciding to ask: “So you’re fucking Scarhead?”

“We’re fucking each other. Yes.” Said Theo, looking at Harry with a sweet smile.

Draco finished the glass of firewhisky and shook his head again, closing his eye momentarily. “What kind of alternative reality have a fallen into?”

“Relax, Dray.” Said Theo, using his childhood nickname, “Harry and I are together... it’s no big deal.”

“Actually,” said Harry with a frown. “It is a big deal. I fucking asked you to marry me!”

Draco stared at the unexpected couple as if they were a car crash – it was stomach-churning but he couldn’t find the strength to look away.

“You don’t want to marry the son of a Death Eater, love.” said Theo softly.

“Except I fucking do!” growled Harry, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and kissing him hard.

“Ugh!” groaned Draco, pouring himself another drink. “Stop it! I don’t need to witness that!” and he downed the contents of his glass in seconds, pouring a third one and drinking as if it were pumpkin juice.

“Is that... normal?” Harry asked, concerned and surprised by the fast alcohol consumption.

Theo shook his head and went towards his friend, taking the firewhisky bottle away from him.

“Hey, give it back!” Shouted Draco.

“No, Dray, stop it! Slow down, man. What the fuck did your parents do?”