Muggle, no Voldemort, no Hogwarts AU, where Harry’s still an orphan (and well off), and Draco’s parents are unavailable due to house arrest/prison/being in a different country due to nefarious dealings in the past. RATED E for sex mentions.
- It’s Christmas eve eve, and Draco’s in a club late at night drowning his sorrows. He’s spent too many Christmases in his life alone and this year he decided he just didn’t want to be, so although he wasn’t serious with his boyfriend, Lawrence, when Lawrence asked him if he wanted to spend the holidays at his, Draco had said yes. He’d been sure to say that as they weren’t really serious yet he didn’t want Lawrence’s family thinking this meant anything, it was just that he didn’t have any other plans, and Lawrence had assured him it wouldn’t be the case.
- But when he’d arrived, he’d been bombarded with an overbearing family who clearly thought they were practically ready to get married. There’s an ugly family Christmas jumper, photos of Lawrence as a baby, a tour of his old room and achievements, and too many hints of a wedding to count.
- Draco, thanks to having manners drilled into him, was able to deal with it smoothly until he could corner Lawrence and demand to know what was going on, but things escalated, and it quickly bacome evident Lawrence hadn’t listened to a thing Draco had said. So he’d left.
- Now, standing alone with a beer watching everyone else dance the night away, he’d never felt less Christmassy.
- Of course, a handsome stranger with round glasses that do nothing to hide vibrant emerald eyes, just happens to stroll over, wondering how he could look so sad on such a festive occasion, offering to buy him drinks, help him dance to forget, and more. At first Draco doesn't even want to flirt with him, too busy feeling sorry for himself. But the guy is lovely, with an endearing sense of humour and a kindness that makes him ache. So, Draco lets himself be dragged onto the dancefloor, be bought drinks, be held and ground against as he grinds back.
- Let's his body thrum with anticipation when a rich voice suggests going back to his.
- The next morning, Draco awakes to a foreign room, a headache, and a warm arm slung possessively around his waist. For all of a sleepy split second he basks in the feeling, which—incredibly—is something akin to safety. But then the panic kicks in, and his scrambling out of bed jolts the stranger—who is even more attractive in the soft morning light—awake.
- He stammers over his words, apologising, saying he shouldn't have come back here, he very rarely did one night stands, he was just low and vulnerable due to his twat of an ex and it being Christmas, and he really should go, and thanks for a great night and sorry for everything too, and—
- And the stranger just holds up his hands as though trying to calm a spooked horse, hair in complete disarray that would be too sexy to ignore at any other time, saying whoa, it's alright, breathe.
- For some reason, Draco does—he takes several breaths in fact—and he hates that the encouraging smile on the bloke’s face comforts him. But it does. And instead of fleeing, he fiddles with his jacket, eyes downcast.
- The guy, now with glasses on, calmly says 'let's start again'. He introduces himself as Harry, Harry Potter, a guy who lives in London and helps run activities for, and is a mentor to, children who are in the social care system. He asks who Draco is.
- He has no idea why he tells him. Maybe it's because his head is still spinning and all that's waiting for him on the other side of the door is loneliness. But he does. And he feels better for it.
