Life is a fragile, delicate thing. Harry Potter had battled against the Dark Arts for his entire life, and seen the worlds of others collapsing around him, shattering into a million irreparable pieces, but miraculously, his had always maintained relatively stable. After taking that for granted for twenty-one long years, one fateful day changed everything. The truth became unavoidable: even the life of the Boy Who Lived was as breakable as an eggshell. And everyone knows that once an eggshell is shattered, no matter how long and hard you try to put the shards back together, it is changed totally and irrevocably, never to be the same again.
That morning started off unremarkably. Harry sat at the kitchen table, reading the Daily Prophet and sipping a glass of ice cold water. He would usually have coffee before he left for work, but that summer morning was almost unbearably hot. Cool hands touched his bare shoulders (he used to jump when this happened, but now it occurred so regularly he sometimes didn't even notice) and he turned in his chair with a smile.
"Good morning, love," he said brightly, leaning up to greet Draco with a kiss before taking a sip of his water.
"Morning," the other mumbled. Harry grinned, taking in his disheveled appearance, and the way he was practically dragging himself to the coffee maker. If he had learned anything about his husband in the past year, it was that the platinum blond was not a morning person.
After serving himself a cup of coffee, Draco dropped into the chair across from Harry with an exaggerated sigh. "Nobody should ever have to wake up this early."
Harry blinked confusedly for a moment, turning to confront a clock mounted on the kitchen wall. "It's almost ten thirty," he informed his partner.
Draco glared up at him. "Your point?"
Chuckling, the brunet held up his hands in defense. "Nothing, nothing at all." After a brief moment, Draco nodded contentedly, and stared down at his coffee. He picked up a spoon and began to stir absentmindedly, though his coffee never had any cream or sugar. Harry knew this to be one of Draco's many nervous habits.
"Ready for the game?" Harry asked him, watching his pale, thin hand make even a task so small as stirring coffe look graceful, like a choreographed dance.
A small muscle in Draco's jaw twitched. "Does it look like I'm ready?" he snapped, glaring once again.
Harry sighed. The blond was always on edge the morning of his Quidditch matches, and reminded him of the days before the war ended, when the two were Hogwarts' most infamous rivals. All of Draco's nervous energy made him a bit of a prat, but Harry was used to defusing the anger and not letting it affect their relationship. "You know I'm just trying to help," he stated reasonably, standing to put his empty cup in the sink. "There's no need to be rude."
Draco sighed and sipped his coffee, grimacing when it burned the roof of his mouth. Harry had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Every morning the blond would drink scalding hot coffee, burn his tongue, spend the rest of the day whining about not being able to taste his food, and then the next morning without fail, would once again drink the coffee without letting it cool. He glanced up, more subdued. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I'm just nervous."
Harry smiled and walked over to him, wrapping his strong arms around Draco's shoulders from behind. "I know." He kissed Draco's neck lightly, then his cheek, and finally his temple. "But I also know that you're going to be brilliant today, as you always are." Draco, flushing lightly from the praise, turned and kissed his husband slowly in gratitude.
"Will you be there today?" Draco asked as Harry separated himself and picked up his newspaper, preparing to go get himself dressed and groomed.
Grinning, Harry stared at his husband. "Of course. Have I missed a game yet?"
"No, I was simply checking."
"Don't ever underestimate my devotion to you and your Quidditch, Dragon." Harry joked as he walked towards their bedroom.
Draco choked on his coffee, sputtering indignantly. "Dragon? Don't you ever underestimate my ability my make your arse sleep on the couch." Draco called out as he watched Harry walk away.
Harry had off from work that day, so going to watch Draco play Quidditch was the only responsibility he had. He dressed leisurely in his favorite pair of denim jeans, and a simple black tee-shirt before tugging a hairbrush swiftly and pointlessly through his untamable hair. Before leaving the room he shoved his wand into his back pocket, and grabbed Draco's dark grey and white Quidditch robe from the blond's side of their shared closet. A white emblazoned falcon stared up at him from the robe as he walked back out to his husband, who was waiting expectantly, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.
The brunet smiled reassuringly, as was his main job on game days, reaching out and tucking a stray white-blond lock of hair behind the other's ear. Draco leaned almost imperceptibly into the touch before taking his robe and putting it on carefully, smoothing it over his lean figure. Harry found his breath hitching in his throat, as it always did when Draco put on his uniform. His robes always made his already striking eyes stand out - fearsome and severe to his competitors, but unique and stunning to Harry. Harry took in Draco's appearance hungrily, his chiseled facial features, strong jaw line, robes revealing a tantalizing amount of perfect, pale skin.
The blond's eyebrow was arched amusedly as he basked in the attention his husband was giving him. "See something you like?" he asked casually, smirking as Harry was broken from his reverie.
"Maybe," Harry recovered and responded quickly, reaching out and grabbing the blond's extremely ticklish waist. Draco squeaked (though he would never admit to it later) and jumped backwards, already preparing for the upcoming battle. The scene that unfolded would probably seem bizarre to any bystander, with two grown men laughing wildly as they chased each other around their decently sized apartment, but to them it was just a way to loosen up and get rid of excess nerves. Harry had the
smaller man pinned beneath him, writhing as Harry tickled him relentlessly.
Finally, just when Draco thought his lungs were about to collapse from a lack of oxygen, Harry released him, rolling onto his side next to the blond. He entwined their fingers as they each struggled to regain their energy. Draco loved that Harry always somehow knew exactly when their games needed to be played, and subsequently, when they needed to end.
Draco ran his hands through his mussed hair and groaned. "I probably look like a mess now."
Harry turned his head and stared in awe at the man that he loved more than anything else in the world. His usually pale cheeks were tinged red from exertion and his grey eyes were bright and alert as they stared back at him. His heart fluttered in his chest as though it was still the very first time he was looking at Draco. "No," Harry said, "You look beautiful."
The blond smiled brilliantly and rolled onto his stomach, cupping Harry's face in his hands and kissing him passionately. It was sensual and exciting and everything that a kiss should be. Harry placed his hands on the blond's back and rolled them over, letting his hands roam over Draco's familiar figure. The blond chuckled, placing his hands on Harry's broad chest and pushing him away.
"Let's not forget that I have a game today," he said, still trying to regain his breath. Harry groaned and dropped dramatically back to the hardwood floor beside him. Draco laughed again, a happy, bubbly sound that five years ago Harry would never have guessed the blond was capable of. He leaned over and kissed Harry once more on the cheek, before standing and rushing to the bathroom to fix his appearance. Harry smiled absently up at the ceiling for a moment longer before righting himself and he, too, began to compose himself.
An hour later, Harry was sitting in the stands beside Ron and Hermione, eyes trained on his husband as he soared dozens of feet above the game, circling the pitch slowly.
"They've got this, mate," Ron encouraged. "Hands down. The Cannons' seeker isn't nearly as fast as Draco is, and the Keeper is practically asleep out there."
Harry nodded in agreement, smiling. Hermione and Ron were extremely skeptical of his relationship with their former enemy when they first started dating, but when they announced their engagement, all of the bitterness just seemed to dissipate. Draco joined him every time he visited the Burrow, and Ron and Hermione had yet to miss a single match of his. Since Ron and Hermione were married as well, the two couples often went out together and all got on really well. Harry noted how Hermione's hand was rubbing slow circles on her swollen belly, a habit that she started since she was about three months pregnant.
Looking up at the bright summer sky, Harry sighed in contentment. Everything was just perfect.
"Look!" Hermione yelled, breaking Harry out of his reverie. "Draco's seen it!" Following Hermione's line of vision, Harry saw that she was right. The blond was zipping across the pitch, almost too quick to be seen, weaving in and out of the other players without even seeming to need to pay attention to where they were. The other seeker was not far behind Draco, but Harry knew that Ron had been right. This man was agile, but didn't have the speed he needed to catch up. Suddenly, Draco shot down towards the ground, hand extended in front of him. Harry's hands gripped the wooden rail in front of him as he watched his husband nervously. If the blond didn't pull away soon, there would be no way to avoid a face first collision with the ground. Draco's arm extended further and his hand trembled. He was two feet away, then one...
He cried out and his fist closed around the golden Snitch, and he wrenched up his broom with all of his strength, avoiding an accident by mere inches. Harry and his friends jumped out of their seats, cheering and screaming wildly. The game had hardly lasted fifteen minutes.
Harry watched Draco circle the pitch once, thrusting his fist with the Snitch up in the air to the deafening cheers of fans. Harry never saw Draco look as brilliantly joyful as he did when he won a game, a wide, open-mouthed smile gracing his face, pink from exertion, wind blowing his hair away from his face and his grey robes billowing out behind him. And when the blond flew by their stands, he looked directly at his husband, smiled, and winked, as he did after every game. Harry flushed and whooped even louder.
And then, as the crowd gave a collective gasp of alarm, Harry watched in slow motion as a bludger that had yet to be tamed flew out of the grasp of the referee, and launched directly towards Draco, too quickly to be stopped. Draco turned just in time to see the bludger that crashed into the side of his head, knocking him off of his broom and sending him tumbling to the ground a dozen feet below him, where he remained unmoving as the officials swarmed around him.
It took every ounce of willpower Harry had not to jump off the bleachers to get to his husband sooner. Face completely drained of every ounce of blood, he shoved and elbowed the crowd out of his way, paying no mind to the shouts of his friends behind him. The image of Draco deathly still and cold as stone urged him on faster and faster, images blurring and fading before his eyes before he reached his destination.
Harry stood a few feet away, watching his love be swarmed by healing staff, waiting with baited breath till the moment someone told him what was going on.
That moment didn't come until two hours later when, standing in an unnaturally cold, white room, he was told that Draco would make it. Harry let out a huge sigh of relief, along with Hermione and Ron, who had come along just to hold Harry's hands and rub soothing circles on their best friend's back. The healer, however, didn't leave, and Harry turned back to her with a frown.
"So when can I go see him?" he questioned.
The woman looked slightly uncomfortable as she responded, "Well, now. However, you should know that the bludger hit him hard in the temple, shattering and bending his bones to the point where he had some brain damage. We were able to fix up most of it," she added quickly, noticing how pale Harry had gone. "the bones and tissue were easy to repair, but there could still be some side effects."
"What kind of side effects?" Harry demanded.
Her hair was as unruly as Hermione's was during their first year, Harry noted distantly as she shook her head. "We won't know until we wake him up. That's where you come in. So if you'll just come this way, we can wake him up and run a few more tests."
Harry nodded numbly and followed the woman, torn between overwhelming relief and crushing panic. When they reached his room, Harry started. For some reason, Harry had pictured seeing the blond bloody and bruised, as he was on the Quidditch pitch, but now he just looked as if he was sleeping. The only remaining evident of the incident was a small, crescent-shaped scar on his temple where he had been hit.
The Healer made Harry stand to the side of the room as she poured a strange blue liquid down Draco's throat, ("in case he had a bad reaction," she had explained to him.) The brunet's heart thudded painfully in his chest as the blond sputtered briefly before he slowly, painstakingly opened his piercing grey eyes. They were immediately fixated on the nurse in front of him.
"W-what?" he managed to choke out, confusion evident on his face.
The red-headed nurse smiled reassuringly. "I'm Healer Mackenzie. You had an accident, Mr. Malfoy. You hit your head, and you're in the hospital."
The blond blinked absently at her for a moment before asking sharply, "When can I go home?" Harry winced slightly. Draco didn't use that tone as often since they married, and it still reminded him of their Hogwarts days.
Healer Mackenzie's smile faltered only slightly before she responded, "We just have to run a few more tests, then you're free to leave with Mr. Potter, of course." Harry was by the woman's side in an instant, nodding and trying to look reassuring and confident.
Draco, however, hissed and jumped further back on his bed, pale complexion losing even more color as his face contorted into a pinched, unpleasant expression. "Potter. Why are you here?" he spat, venom laced in his words like never before.
Harry furrowed his brow in confusion and hurt. It had been years since Draco had called him by his last name. "What are you talking about?" he reasoned. "I'm here to bring you back home."
"Home?" Draco sounded more and more horrified by the second. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"
The realization hit Harry with such physical force that he had to grab onto the rail of the bed to steady himself. Draco, for whatever reason, didn't know that they lived together.
"Draco…" he started hesitantly, Draco's cold grey eyes still glaring daggers his way. "We're married. We live together."
The blond looked like he was going to be sick, or hex everyone in the room, or maybe both. He looked down at his left hand and gaped at the silver band adorning his ring finger. Before Harry could blink, Draco had ripped off the symbol of their marriage, the ring that he had worn for an entire year without ever once taking off, and sent it flying across the room. It slammed against the far wall and fell to the ground dejectedly.
"What kind of sick joke are you playing at, Potter?" Draco screamed, eyes suspiciously glassy. Harry's eyes remained glued to the ring lying on the floor. He walked over slowly and picked it up carefully, clutching it in his fist.
'Draco doesn't know we're married.' Harry realized. 'Draco hates me.'
He remained in the room for only a moment longer before he dashed out of the room, down the hallway, and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach in a cold steel trashcan. When he was finished he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and slid down against the wall, sobbing in earnest as he stared down at the discarded, now-bent wedding band he continued to hold in the palm of his hand.
A/N: Hello! So if you can't tell, this story is based on the movie The Vow, which I saw in theatres, and which was phenomenal. I don't own The Vow or Harry Potter, just this little plot crossover I thought up. I won't be sticking strictly to the plot of the movie, but I will be following it to a degree. Hope you all enjoy!
Please review :)
