Harry Potter Oneshots

Voicemail Pt 4.

Harry Potter had never been this nervous in his life. Not even the night he'd confronted the homicidal maniac that had killed his parents and derailed his life for good. He still remembered those hours leading up to that fateful moment, still remembered how Tom Riddle's blood had felt on his hands. 

It was a different sort of night now, and a different sort of nervous. He had done everything for this moment, had confronted the worst of his demons, and conquered every lingering fear and sorrow left in his soul. He was ready now, ready for what came next. 

The question was and always had been, was Draco ready?

Draco wasn't sure if he was ready. Harry had torn him asunder, left him alone and drifting in the oceans of his grief. He had destroyed every bit of him that he touched, blocked every bit that sunlight could have healed his broken heart. He had taken and squandered and used until Draco felt breathless with his rage. 

And yet still he loved him. Still, his heart pounded when he drew near. Neither time nor death could dull the fact that his heart beat for Harry, that he loved and wanted him with every fiber of his poor, misguided body. 

Draco didn't know if he was ready, but he sure as hell knew what he wanted. 

Harry was clean and stood with the straight-backed posture of a man awaiting a death sentence. His green eyes gleamed with clarity and the sort of youth that their seven years apart had stolen. Untidy hair was as tidy as it could be made, glasses were new and shining. His physical appearance left no doubt that this was a man bettered and changed. A repenter awaiting the verdict.

He wore a blue, button-up shirt and neat black trousers. His nervous fingers were curled around a glass of water, the drops of condensation inching towards the tips of his brown fingers. Draco knew he didn't drink anymore, knew because he'd asked. Harry had given the answer readily and solemnly. It was not to brag or give proof as to why Draco should take him back. Simply a statement of fact, no more and no less. 

"How is Scorp?" Harry asked, setting the glass down on the wicker table between them. They sat on the spacious covered porch of the house that had once been theirs. 

"He's well, and getting along quite good in school." Of all things to say, that had to be the best. Draco was exuberantly proud of his son. 

"He always was a smart boy," Harry smiled fondly. "He's at Astoria's now?"

"I figured it was for the best. When we- separated, it was very hard for him. He hasn't had much consistency in his life, and I just wanted to protect him from any false hopes," Draco said, watching carefully to Harry's reactions. 

There was the slightest of dimming in his eyes, but he kept his composure and only nodded. "The last thing I want is to cause anymore contention in his or your life."

"How have you been getting on?" 

"I'm- getting better. I'm seeing a therapist. I have a group I go to every week. I'm getting the help I should have gotten two years ago."

Draco smiled then, a true and honest smile. "Really? Are you happier?"

Harry's smile had faded almost entirely. "I don't think I could be truly happy without you in my life."

"Harry-"

"No, let me say this. From the moment we met, you have pushed me to be a better man. I'm stubborn, you know that. I don't like being told what to do and I'm more than a little resistant to change. But I love you, Draco. I love and I always have. I want to be with you. If you'll have me?"

Draco's eyes filled against his will. "You've hurt me, Harry. I don't know if I can forgive you for everything."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I've done despicable things in my life, and hurting you was the worst. I haven't had many good things in my life, and you were by far the best. My therapist says that I'm prone to sabotaging my relationships."

He bit his lip and looked away. Draco did the same, focusing on his hands. 

"It's not that I don't want to."

"I know."

"I love you too, you know that. I don't want to be truly divorced. You are the love of my life and nothing will change that."

"I'll give you all the space you need. Anything you want."

Draco took Harry's hand and squeezed. Their eyes met over the space between them, both tear-filled and hopeful. "I'd like to try again."

Harry grinned, small and hesitant, but happier than anything he'd been in far too long. "I'd like that too."

A/N: You know, for a second there I nearly killed Astoria. I started that version at least three times. I couldn't go through with it though. Also! Can you tell I've been reading fancy old books again? I get a bit long-winded there in the beginning. 

Anyway, I hope you liked this sleep-addled mess of a story that's barely edited and probably awful. It's a short but fitting end, I think, to this quartet of misery. 

Your genderfluidnightmare.