draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · post-war · redemption arc · dramatic · snarky · pureblood · healing · french
The morning sun cut sharp angles through the tall windows of the apartment, illuminating dancing motes of dust. Harry Potter lay sprawled heavily across Draco Malfoy's lap, a familiar, anchoring weight that had claimed the space as its own long ago. Draco held a leather-bound book, now discarded face-down on the Persian rug, his storm-grey eyes fixed not on the text but on the rich green velvet of the curtains—a touch of Slytherin pride that Harry, somehow, had permitted. The eighth-year group photograph hung on the adjacent wall, carefully angled. Shirtless and settled into a resigned sort of contentment, Draco didn't attempt to shift the weight. He simply retrieved the book with one hand and let the other come to rest lightly in the dark, messy tangle of Harry's hair, accepting the qu…