Harry and Draco are recently engaged and living together. What happens when Harry is looking through Draco's things and discovers the diary his fiancé kept during his Hogwarts years?
Draco Malfoy's Top Secret Diary
Harry was sleeping peacefully. That was until he was jolted awake by a loud 'MERLIN!' that came from somewhere downstairs. Groaning, Harry nestled further into his pillow. He was not in the mood to deal with another one of his fiancés tantrums. 'Harry, sweetie…' Draco's irritating voice drifted up the stairs. Harry knew the best thing to do was just to ignore the blonde man until he went away. So he kept his eyes tightly closed. 'HARRY!'
It really seemed today was not his day. Harry sat up in bed, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. 'Yes, dear?' He replied sleepily.
'I spilled pumpkin juice!' Draco moaned.
Harry sighed. This kind of thing happened at least once a day. 'So what?' Harry replied grumpily.
'Fetch me a new shirt and tie, darling?' Draco spoke in that sweet way that he knew Harry could not refuse. The dark-haired man struggled for a moment, trying to resist. But in his mind's eye he saw Draco fluttering those long eyelashes and pouting those pink lips.
So Harry sat up in bed. He clumsily put on his glasses and blinked a little. The whole room was suddenly clearer. The brunette man stood up and walked across the room. He opened the doors of the wardrobe where his and Draco's clothes hung neatly side-by-side, and smiled fondly.
Harry absent-mindedly rifled through their clothes, selecting a dark green shirt and a purple tie. He was about to close the doors when he saw something. A small green book, wedged right at the back of the wardrobe. Harry bent down, and curiously reached out for the book. He held it into the light. 'Draco Malfoy's Top Secret Diary' was written on the front in elegant black calligraphy. Harry tried to yank it open, but it wouldn't budge. He sighed, annoyed. Draco must have used some kind of sticking charm.
Harry stood up and walked over to his bed, hiding the book under his pillow. He decided to work on opening it later when Draco was at work. The Gryffindor wandered downstairs, chuckling when he took in the sight before him. His fiancé was sat at the table, eyeing Harry over a copy of the Daily Prophet. His shirt was utterly soaked with pumpkin juice. The thin material stuck to his skin. Harry could just make out the contours of his stomach. 'You could have used a drying Charm, y'know.' Harry spoke, passing Draco fresh clothing.
The blonde man did that half smirk Harry had grown to both love and resent, and dramatically discarded his copy of the Daily Prophet onto their kitchen table. 'Where would the fun be in that?' He quipped, unbuttoning his ruined shirt.
'You're a prat, Malfoy.' But Harry didn't mean it. He was too busy watching the other man slowly undo his shirt to mean it.
'I'm so wet, Harry…' Malfoy sighed, pulling off his shirt dramatically and flinging it to the floor.
Harry swallowed. 'Is that a euphemism?' He whispered, his voice low.
Draco snickered and took a step towards Harry. 'If you'd like it to be…' He replied, enjoying the way the green-eyed boy eyed his body hungrily. Harry let his eyes trail down Draco's pale torso. He smiled fondly at the tiny freckle that rested on his pelvic bone. And the coarse blonde hairs that curled over the top of Draco's trousers. And the slight bulge he could just make out under Draco's work trousers. Harry's pyjama bottoms were suddenly uncomfortably tight. But then Draco was pulling on the shirt Harry had chosen for him, doing up the buttons and obscuring the glorious view. Harry pouted. 'Tonight.' Draco promised, leaning forward to press a kiss to Harry's forehead. Harry closed his eyes and leaned into the other man's touch. But all too soon, Draco moved away.
The blonde man pulled on his tie and smiled at his fiancé fondly. 'I love you.' He whispered.
Harry felt his heart swell. 'You too.'
The moment was ruined somewhat when Draco caught his reflection in the mirror on the way out. 'Gross! Potter, these colours really clash! I thought spending so much time with a well-dressed man like me would teach you how to put clothes together. Evidently not.' He rolled his eyes and reached for the jar of Floo Powder.
Harry rolled his eyes. 'You are insatiable.' Draco looked gorgeous, and both men knew it.
The blonde man threw a pinch of Floo Powder onto the fireplace, watching as the flames turned emerald green. 'You didn't complain last night. Or the night before.' He stepped into the flames and grinned cheekily at a blushing Harry. 'The Ministry of Magic!'
And then Harry was left alone with a semi hard-on and an image of a topless Draco still fresh in his mind. The dark-haired man stood up, leaving Draco's finished breakfast on the table, and ran back up the stairs. His mind lingered on the mysterious book.
After a refreshing shower, during which he took the time to indulge himself in a quick wank (he couldn't possibly be expected to wait for Draco to return), Harry sat back down on the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist.
Harry pulled the book out from under his pillow. He picked up his wand. 'Alohomora!' Nothing happened. 'Epoximise?' Still nothing. 'Finite!' Harry growled in frustration. He picked the book up and shook it angrily. 'Open, you stupid thing!'
To his upmost surprise, a face grew on the surface of the book. Harry dropped it quickly, remembering 'The Monster Book of Monsters' that Hagrid had requested his class bought back in their third year. Hagrid had thought they were funny. Harry, however, disagreed. He did not enjoy being attacked by a book with teeth.
However, Draco's book did not attack him. It simply smirked lazily for a few moments, before opening its mouth. 'Password?' It asked, yawning.
'Uhh…' Harry thought for a moment. 'Draco rules?' He asked. The book raised an eyebrow. 'Okay then… Draco Malfoy is the best?' Harry tried again.
'Nope.' The book sighed. It looked very bored.
Harry grinned. 'I love Harry Potter!' The book smirked widely and swung open. Harry punched the air, victorious. He couldn't wait to tease Draco later about this. But for now, he had more important things to tend to.
The book had opened onto a random page. Harry adjusted his glasses and leaned closer. He began to read Draco's elegant script.
'Dear diary,
I wish Potter would cut his hair. It's very distracting. I can't stop staring at it across the Great Hall. He looks like some kind of wild animal.
Draco'
Harry snorted and turned the page.
'Dear diary,
Today I overheard a conversation in the library between Potter and that Granger girl. She was warning him about some silly girls in the year below who are planning to sneak him some Love Potion. Some people are so pathetic. I'd never stoop that low.
Draco'
'Dear diary,
Today, Slughorn brought a load of different potions to class. One of them was Amortentia, a powerful love potion. Granger said that it smells different to each person, depending on what they are attracted to. To me, it smelt warm but woody. Kind of like a big hug in the forest. I'm not sure where I remember smelling it before. It was very distinctive, very familiar. A good smell.
I wonder what would happen if I slipped some Amortentia into Potter's morning pumpkin juice.
Draco'
Harry remembered that lesson well. He'd personally smelt treacle tart, a broomstick handle, and a stupid flowery scent that he'd later link to Draco.
'Dear diary,
I'm worried you think that I was being serious in my last entry. I'd never sneak Potter love potion. First off, he's a boy. Secondly, he has stupid hair. Thirdly, he's arrogant and so annoying. Of course I was joking.
Ha ha
Draco.'
Harry frowned. He wasn't arrogant and annoying. And Draco always said he loved his hair. He pouted and flicked through the pages, stopping at random.
'Dear diary,
Apparently I moan 'Harry' in my sleep. Blaise Zabini angrily informed me that I keep him awake nightly. Obviously, it's because I have very vivid dreams in which I am torturing Potter. There is no other reason. I reassured my fellow Slytherins of this. For some reason, they didn't seem to believe me.
Draco.'
Harry laughed.
'Dear diary,
Today I was staring at Potter during Potions. I was having a very vivid fantasy in which I shaved off his stupid black tangled mane. Half way through, he looked up and stared at me.
I don't think I've ever seen eyes so green.
Draco.'
Harry's cheeks flushed red. He couldn't control the smile that spread over his face.
'Dear diary,
Something really odd happened today. I was standing outside of Charms, waiting for class, when Potter brushed past me. He smelt just like Slughorn's stupid love potion.
Weird, huh?
Draco.'
Harry's heart thumped in his chest and he realised that only one page remained. He turned it, scanning Draco's final entry.
'Dear diary,
Today, Pansy Parkinson told me she'd found the fabled mirror of Erised in a spare classroom. She asked me if I wanted to go back with her. Naturally, at first I believed it to be simply lies; lies spun to get me alone. But she did make a rather convincing argument. So I let Pansy take me there. When I looked into the mirror, I was greeted with the strangest image imaginable. Harry Potter was beside me, arm wrapped around my waist, head resting on my shoulder.
Suddenly, it all makes sense.
Draco.'