A/N: A pairing suggestion from ObsessivePanda (Drarry). I'm a bit nervous about this; 'tis my first time writing a slash pairing but I hope it's half-decent haha. A fluffy one-shot that mixes family and romance genres. :)

Wordcount: 3011

For: QLFC rnd 8 [Harpies Beater 2: Make a Dementor fluffy, transformation, "The marks humans leave are too often scars," - John Green TFIOS, "You can't live your life for other people. You've got to do what's right for you, even if it hurts some people you love." ― Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook]; Secret Battle comp rnd 2 [Lucius Malfoy, drunk, Merlin, loneliness, sharp]; HP Chapter comp [PS/SS: Mirror of Erised - Heart's Desire/Potter family]; Hunger Games comp ["Real, or not real?"]; Birthday comp [August - characters - Harry Potter]; Pairing Diversity Bootcamp [pillow talk]; Fave House Bootcamp [scar]

Sweet Dreams

Harry ran through a thicket of trees as he tried to escape the dark non-entity that was following him. His feet were thundering against the earth but his body felt weightless. The rattling breaths of the Dementors were drawing nearer with every step, but Harry felt no fear or sorrow.

When he reached a dead-end he drew his wand with nothing but a smile on his face; he welcomed the moment when he could conjure his Patronus. In reality, he'd have no choice but to separate what was real and what he wanted to be real in a situation like this. But this was a dream, and in this realm Harry could make his happy memory anything at all.

Real, or not real: it didn't matter here.

The introduction of the dream being an encounter with a Dementor, or sometimes looking into the Mirror of Erised gave Harry some kind of leverage to make his thoughts seem as genuine as possible.

He lifted his ever-faithful Holly and Phoenix feather wand at the shrouded figure that towered above him. Just as a skeletal and inhuman hand lunged for Harry's throat, he closed his eyes and yelled:

"Expecto Patronum!"

With a smile on his face, Harry watched the transformation of the ambiguous white light as it took on its corporeal form. In a matter of seconds, everything around him: the forest, the Dementor, the Patronus, dissolved into black, and Harry was pulled into his dream-self's alternate-reality memories that conjured the stag.

There was still a hand lunging towards him in this new place, but it was fleshy and human instead of bony and grotesque. The hand stopped short of Harry's face, and held a bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Drink up, Harry," his godfather grinned. "Well deserved, that is."

"Deserved for what?" Harry asked Sirius, not even waiting for a reply before he lifted the bottle to his lips.

"Sirius," Remus said warningly from beside him. "Harry isn't even of age yet so you'd better not let James or Lily catch you."

"For that sheer bloody cheek of yours," Sirius answered Harry, ignoring Remus for a moment. "'There's no need to call me Sir, Professor.'" He burst out laughing, causing the contents of his own bottle to slosh onto the floor. "And to say that old Snivellus, too – bloody priceless! You're growing up to be a little sass master just like I was."

There was a clearing of a throat, and then James' voice. "Don't you mean like I was, Padfoot?" He glanced at the bottle in Harry's hands. He winked at his son and whispered. "Make sure your mum doesn't find out."

Remus looked incredulous. "James, don't you think that's a bit irrespons-"

"You're one to talk, Moony. At his age you were wolfing back the booze just as much as the rest of us were," James said, exchanging smirks with Sirius.

"Wolfing back? Really?" Remus sighed. "I thought you were past that now."

"Well tough luck," Sirius grinned. "You're stuck with our wolf puns for life."

"Howwwww-" James dragged out the word to make it sound like a howl. "- do you like that?" he asked Remus, who was determinedly trying to keep a straight face.

"Not funny," he coughed, trying to mask his laugh.

Harry watched this whole exchange with amusement. Most, if not all of his Patronus dreams envisioned his happy memory to be something as simple as being with his family in his house at Godric's Hollow. He was often much younger than he actually was in his dreams, too, because after a childhood that revolved around Voldemort and trying to stay alive, Harry always wanted to know what a normal one would have been like.

Of course, in real life, none of the adults in his dream were alive, but it was Harry's heart's desire to have had a moment like this with them all. And so, a scenario like this frequented his subconscious mind at night.

Harry took another sip of Firewhiskey and saw his dad wander over to his mum's collection of Muggle CDs. James began rooting through them as Sirius and Remus watched on with expressions of curiosity and subtle dread respectively.

"Aha!" James exclaimed triumphantly as he plucked a thin square case from the rack and held it aloft for the others to see.

Lily walked into the room at that moment, and a sharp look from Sirius coaxed Harry to hide his bottle of alcohol behind his back. Sirius winked at him and nodded proudly. Harry grinned back.

His mother groaned when she saw the CD James had selected. "Really?" she sighed. "Don't you think you've picked on poor Remus enough for one night?"

"Aw relax," James waved her off and smirked. "We've always picked on him in the most loving way possible. He knows that."

"Oh yeah," Sirius threw an arm around Remus' shoulders and smiled up at him. "James and I love you."

Remus chuckled. "How lucky I am to be loved so much by Prancer and the fleabag."

"Moony," Sirius pouted. "You know I'm sensitive about my flea issues. Although…" he leaned towards Remus and then spoke in a loud whisper. "You got Prancer bang on for James over there."

Harry couldn't quite tell if his godfather's failed attempt at a whisper was done deliberately, or if it was simply an effect of his slightly drunk state.

"Oi!" James looked at his best and oldest friends. "That name never has and never will be okay with me," he berated half-heartedly.

"Well, in your Animagus form you always strut about so much that I think it's quite apt," Remus commented, taking a sip of his drink.

"I didn't and still do not strut," James said. He stooped down and put the round disc into the player. A song Harry wasn't familiar with played form the speakers and around the room.

"What's this?" Remus' brows knitted, as did Sirius'.

"You'll see soon enough," James grinned. He pushed his round glasses up his nose and sank into an armchair with his drink.

'I'm on the hunt I'm after you. Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd, and I'm hungry like the wolf…'

At that line Sirius did a spit-take as the laughter erupted from his mouth. He and James both doubled over at the look on Remus' face. Despite wanting to sympathise with Remus, Harry couldn't help but laugh along.

Lily patted Remus on the shoulder. "I honestly don't know how you put up with them," she said.

"I could ask you the same question," he chuckled.

Lily laughed too before walking over to Harry. "Thank Merlin you inherited some of my level-headedness. I don't know how I'd cope if you were a complete miniature version of your father."

She kissed the top of Harry's head, her emerald eyes twinkling as she smiled at him. Before Harry could say anything in return, there was a knock at the door.

"I wonder who that is," James commented as Hungry Like The Wolf continued to play on.

"I swear to Godric if any of you've tried to be funny by ordering a stripper here again, I won't be impressed," Lily said as she walked out of the room.

Harry frowned, and looked questioningly at Sirius, who just shook his head. In doing so he was either indicating that now wasn't the time to be explaining, or that he'd decided to be responsible and not explain anything to Harry at all. Harry didn't really have the chance to ask him anyway, as Lily called him to say there was someone at the door for him.

Sirius, quite aptly, wolf-whistled at this. "Ooohh," he said teasingly. "Has Harry been hiding a special someone from us?"

"Not that I'm aware of," James replied as Harry left the room and headed for the door. His heart almost jumped out of his throat when he saw a familiar blond head.

"Oh thank Salazar this is the right house," Draco laughed in a way that always made Harry's stomach do somersaults. "Hi, Harry," he smiled.

"Draco," Harry's eyes widened behind the round frames of his glasses as he stared at his boyfriend. "You can't be here."

"Why not?" Draco asked. This time when he spoke, his voice sounded much closer. More real.

"Because nobody knows about us," Harry blurted out.

With those words, the sounds of laughter in the front room and the music faded away as Harry's mind drifted back into consciousness. The image of Draco standing on the doorstep of his house dissolved into black, and then Harry's eyes snapped open as he left the dream world. He blindly fumbled around on the nightstand for his glasses and put them on.

Draco was sitting up in bed beside him. His blond hair was slightly dishevelled from sleeping and his sparkling grey eyes looked down at him curiously. An arched brow completed this overall expression.

"Were you dream cheating on me?" he drawled without pre-amble.

"What?" Harry asked a little groggily. He sat up too and instinctively lifted a hand to flatten his unruly bed hair.

"You were mumbling all this nonsense like 'you can't be here'," Draco said. "And I know you were talking to me because you said my name."

It took Harry a moment to come to his senses and adjust to the fact that his parents, Sirius and Remus were not here with him. He was momentarily overcome with a pang of loneliness, as he always was after one of those particular 'what if' dreams.

Draco must have seen his forlorn expression, as the next thing Harry felt was a strong arm around his shoulder. He snuggled down and leaned into Draco's body, inhaling his familiar vanilla-y scent.

"Merlin it wasn't real, I won't be that upset if you were dream-cheating," Draco laughed, mistaking the cause of Harry's moment of sadness. "I mean, I might use it as a means to emotionally blackmail you but –"

Now Harry laughed. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you." He paused, suddenly realising that he was talking in his sleep towards the end, and the reason why Draco's voice seemed so real was because he'd been talking back to him in real life. "And I wasn't dream-cheating on you, don't worry."

"So, what were you talking about?"

"I think it's time that we tell people about us," Harry blurted. He felt Draco's body tense, but he did not pull his arm away. It had been a completely new occurrence for Draco to show up in one of his dreams like that. Those particular dreams – ones that began with a Dementor attack or the Mirror of Erised – were the ones that epitomised Harry's deepest desires, so he only put the ending down to being a message from his heart.

He and Draco had been together for a few months now, and whilst they were happy with keeping a low profile about it in the beginning, Harry only now realised that he didn't want to sneak around any longer.

"I think you're right," Draco surprised him with his answer. Harry felt his heart leap with relief and happiness. "But I don't know if I could tell my father."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"You know how rocky our relationship has been since the war," Draco said quietly. "We're still trying to recover from our blow-out last week when he found out I actually had a job."

"But that's a good thing, isn't it? You gaining financial independence from him and all that."

"Honestly, the only reason I decided to seek employment in the first place is because I want to have a positive impact on the world; make my mark, you know? I don't want to be remembered as the world's worst Death Eater. Father doesn't even understand that, so how will he ever accept us?"

"He may just think you're wasting your time," Harry mused aloud in an attempt to comfort Draco. "The marks humans leave are too often scars no matter how good you try to be."

"Ain't that the truth, Scarhead?" Draco spoke quietly but the smirk was all too evident in his voice as he gently stroked the faded mark on Harry's forehead.

"It is," he absently let his own fingers trace the pink line across Draco's chest that Harry left himself in their sixth year.

Draco's fingers strayed into Harry's hair. He absently started to run them through it, to just feel it, as the other wizard lay against his chest and listened to the beating of his heart. The two of them were silent, but it was amiable and comfortable.

Harry sighed in contentment. He loved how Draco: aloof, distant, cold Draco, could be so open and intimate with him. It made Harry see the blond wizard in an entirely new light.

Looking up at him now, those sharp edges of his facial bone structure seemed softer and friendlier, reflecting that secretly gentle side of his prickly personality. Then there was Draco's pale skin, which was so cold in appearance but as smooth and delicate as porcelain. Harry was always mesmerised by how pore-less and clean Draco's complexion was, and this moment was no exception to that. Harry slowly drew an invisible line with his index finger, as he lightly moved it from Draco's chest, along his shoulders and neck to his cheek, where it rested.

Grey locked with green as Harry allowed his eyes to follow the path of his finger. He became lost in the swirling pools of silver just as much as Draco was getting lost in his emerald. The Slytherin had often likened their eye colours to his house's emblem, but Harry didn't care. He'd stopped caring about being likened to a Slytherin the moment he fell in love with one.

Draco and Harry remained lost in one another's gazes for so long that time eventually slipped away from them. Eventually, Harry spoke.

"You know, you can't live your life for other people," he spoke so softly, as if he were afraid that reaching a certain decibel would shatter this special moment that was just for them. "You've got to do what's right for you. Even if it hurts some people you love."

Harry held his breath as Draco's eyes finally strayed from his. He watched as Draco's tongue flicked out and dampened his lower lip before looking at him again.

"Did you just quote The Notebook to me?" he arched a brow and chuckled lightly. "That's really cheesy, Potter." His voice matched Harry's volume and tone.

Harry blushed faintly. Hermione had lent them that film a few weeks ago, and in that time Harry and Draco had watched it so much that they'd learnt it word for word. Almost. Suffice it to say, Hermione wouldn't be getting it back any time soon.

"Oh," Harry said. Now it was his turn to look away. "I didn't realise… but I still think the point is valid."

"I agree," Draco said.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. "I'm sorry, but are you admitting I'm right about something."

"Now don't be getting the wrong idea; this is merely a coincidence," Draco smirked.

"Yeah, right," Harry said sarcastically.

Draco laughed for a moment before matching Harry's previously quiet and sincere tone. "There's one thing I don't like about that quote," he said.

"What?" Harry asked.

"The pronoun used is 'you', not 'we'." Draco left it at that, predictably being cryptic and leaving Harry to put the pieces of the jigsaw together. The way Draco felt the need to test Harry all the time was infuriating, but at the same time, quite addictive. It didn't take Harry long to work out his message this time.

"Draco, you know I wouldn't let you tell Lucius on your own. We'll tell him. Together," Harry laced his fingers in between Draco's and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Together," Draco repeated. "Sounds good."

"Good," Harry smiled. He wriggled back under the duvet and rested his head against Draco's chest. "We don't have to get up right now, do we?" he asked.

Draco, who'd actually been meaning to get some preparation done for a meeting at work tomorrow, couldn't find it in his heart to refuse him. (And being a Slytherin, that was saying a lot).

"Not at all," he smiled. "You can go back to sleep if you want… I know how lazy you are."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You just had to ruin the moment didn't you?"

"Of course." Draco's reply was followed by another silence.

"For what it's worth," Harry's voice brought whatever parts of Draco's brain that had been on the brink of sleep on full alert again. "You've done enough to put a positive mark onto my world."

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Everything Harry came out with was always so cheesy, but at the same time, so sincere and meaningful that he knew he'd regret poking fun at him. It was hard for Draco to be as open and romantic as Harry, but that didn't seem to matter when the Gryffindor was plenty mushy for the both of them.

It had evidently taken Draco too long to think of a way to respond, for Harry's chest was now rising and falling steadily, and his breathing was shallow. Draco continued to run his fingers through his black hair until Harry drifted out of consciousness again.

"Sweet dreams."

Those were the last words Harry heard from Draco in the real world as he was once again, forced to succumb to the draw of sleep. With his worries now at ease, Harry welcomed the déja-vu of first being chased by a Dementor, then casting the Patronus, being catapulted into an alternate universe where his loved ones were still alive and finally, seeing Draco standing on the doorstep.

This time, Harry didn't yell at Draco to leave. This time, he welcomed the blond into his home in Godric's Hollow, and they proceeded to finally tell everyone about their relationship. Together.

A/N: Thank you for reading! As ever, comments are appreciated :D