Drarry One-Shots 2

Unique intergalactic honeymoon experience

day 1: an impulse buy leading to intergalactic warfare

Unique intergalactic honeymoon experience for star-crossed newlyweds of royal blood

There was something immensely depressing about wallowing in your misery in a dingy jail cell meant to patronise you after you caused an intergalactic war completely by accident. Harry wished he could die on the spot – not because of the smug-looking guards trained at the entrance of his honestly claustrophobia-inducing current residence or the fact that he'd managed to get caught as a war prisoner in a record-breaking time of ten days. No, he wanted to die on the spot because all he wanted to do is be a nice secret boyfriend and buy the love of his life some merlivian figs for breakfast and now he was here – no freedom, no figs, and with his luck, no secret boyfriend.

"This is all your fault, you know," his soon to be ex-secret-boyfriend said. He sounded amused and Harry's lips pulled into a pout. It was his fault. He knew it was his fault, but Draco could at least show the bare minimum of his affections as admit that leaving his easily traceable intergalactic Visa on the table for Harry to mistakenly take left him with at least some responsibility – like, at least half of the responsibility for this situation!

"You're not cute when you're pouting, Potter," Draco said, and Harry glared at him. It was sort of hard to glare at him because of the weird shimmering electrified wall of magic which separated them.

"I'm not pouting, Malfoy! I'm just miserable because I have to stay in this stupid tiny cell in your stupid tiny kingdom and your father could at least have the decency to give his almost-son-in-law a proper jail cell!"

"You kidnapped his sole heir; what are expecting?" Draco snorted. He sat down in front of the cell and it was only then that Harry realised he was dressed in his full royal glory, the heavy fabric of his robes almost swallowing his whole figure, making him look bigger in a weird royal masculine way. Harry didn't like it.

"You look like a prat," he informed Draco, who immediately put on a haughty smirk.

"I'm the Slytherin prince, thank you very much – you Gryfindorks couldn't afford this finery even if you sold all of your five moons!"

Harry stared at him and moved slowly to sit so they were facing one another. "You're a Slytherin ponce. You wouldn't know what being a prince means even if it bit off that nose of yours."

"And you would? Gallivanting across the universe with a stolen prince? Not very royal-like at all." This was said with an incredible amount of fondness and Harry would sooner have escaped the unnecessarily complicated confines of his cell that managed to keep the smile off his face. A dopey, lovey-dovey smile that became a staple in the early mornings of waking up next to Draco.

"I'm sorry I messed up our elopement," he said with bitter regret lacing his words and tears in his eyes and hunched shoulders and a pained expression on his face. (He spent too much time with Draco if he was getting this dramatic."

"Oh, that's a big word, darling. Congratulations." Draco's laughter made Harry feel as if he wasn't a war prisoner at all – it was a nice feeling.

"I hate you," he said anyway.

"Of course, you do. Otherwise, you would have waited at least another month before prompting my father to pull out his transgalactic missiles and threaten your lunerium industry."

Harry said nothing but continued to stare at his lover's gorgeous face. They were off the grid for fifty-six days – Harry on a supposed hunt for rare ingredients, and Draco missing without a trace and presumed dead – when Harry paid for those godforsaken plums with Draco's card triggering the tracing system and getting recognised as Draco's supposed kidnapper with the preposterous plan of taking over the Slytherin empire by forcing Draco to marry him.

Harry didn't want the Slytherin empire. He didn't want any empire – not even his own! He did want to marry Draco though - but without any force. Just as he was about to apologise again, the guards who had so far shamelessly eavesdropped on their boring semi-domestic moved and left towards the door.

"Draco, sweetheart, your father was called off to Hufflepuff to sign the peace treaty with Gryffindor," a melodic female voice came from the door. Soon, the woman was standing next to Draco and it was quite clear that it was none other than the Queen of Slytherin, also known as Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother.

Harry often hoped he would never have to meet the parents of his soon to be husband, but here he was – pathetic, miserable, so goddamn in love with the stupid Prince of Slytherin.

"Your Majesty," he whispered and scrambled up so he could bow. The first impressions were important and even though he would forever be that one foreign prince who took away their son for so long they'd thought him dead, he could be polite when he wanted to be.

"Prince Potter," Draco's mum nodded to him before giving her attention back to her son.

She took his hands in her own and then pressed her lips to his knuckles. "Your father left the Empire half an hour ago," she said with a glance to Harry's cell. Draco frowned for a moment before his eyes widened comically.

"You're such a good boy, Draco. My perfect little prince." Narcissa kissed Draco's forehead before releasing him and turning to walk away.

"Mother," Draco called and when she turned, he added, "Thank you."

Narcissa's smile was wide and sincere, soft. "All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, dear." With that, she turned and left, leaving Draco to grin like a madman, thrust his hand through the glittering barrier of Harry's cell and pull him out into his arms.

--------

"Your Majesty, Prince Draco is missing!" Severus Snape, Lucius' closest advisor and the prince's godfather nearly yelled at the queen some fifteen minutes later. She was calmly sipping her spiked tea in the garden, her eyes glued to the twirling stars stretching over the horizon.

"Again?" she asked as if she was talking about the weather. Severus shifted in place before sighing and moving to drop into the armchair next to her.

"You let a war prisoner escape, 'Cissa."

"Is that what we're calling my son now?" Her eyebrow twitched incredulously.

"Your son? I'm speaking of your son's kidnapper!"

"Son, son-in-law; it's all the same in the end, don't you think?" She shrugged and gave him an amused smile. She took another sip of her tea as he stared at her.

"Lucius will be furious once he finds out about it," he told her, wishing she would offer him spiked tea but this was from her private stash and was not to be shared.

"Well, he should've known I wasn't strong enough to hold the wards strong all on my own."

"Don't you think he knows better than to doubt your power?"

"Of course, he does," she laughs and puts her empty cup on the coffee table. "Which is why he will sustain from giving a single complaint to my actions."

Severus was quiet for a moment before sighing and rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. The Malfoy dynasty was exhausting. "I don't understand you at all."

"Well, dear Severus, one day you will find yourself a person who will become the centre of your entire universe and you will find yourself ready to do anything to keep them – even escaping your jail cell as a war prisoner in a war which you've personally caused." She paused, considering, before giving in and pouring him half a cup of the tea.

"Until then," she continued, "watching your godson light up at the mere thought of the Prince of Gryffindor will have to sustain the need for romantic events in your daily life."

"He's really in love with the brat?" Severus asked and downed the tea in one go. It helped.

"Yes. I've never seen him smile like that before. I couldn't take that happiness away from him."

"Goddamn it. Should I invent an economic crisis to prevent Lucius from breaking the peace treaty once he gets home?"

Narcissa shook her head gently. "Don't you worry about Lucius. I can handle him with ease."