You Can Close Your Eyes (Drarry)

Chapter 4: Yours Somewhere

Its out now I'm very sorry for not even updating for literally months but I don't even know if someone is really interested in this shite book 🙃

┆
┆
┆┆┆

“If father sees this, Harry, there is no way I’ll be let even a foot inside my house.” Draco laughs hysterically. “Ask Remus to keep a room ready for me, will you?”

Harry rolls his eyes and pulls Draco’s wrist closer to him. He traces the newly formed tattoo on his forearm amusedly. The black ink contrasts starkly with Draco’s pale skin and he presses down on the bottom of the tattoo lightly, as if feeling it would make it seem more real. Harry doesn’t know why Draco is so upset about it; they have more than a month until they see their parents. 

“But it looks so cool, Drache.” Harry lets go of his arm and Draco retreats with a tired sigh. “I wish I had a tattoo.” He frowns.

“Even one as fucking threatening as this?” Draco eyes his tattoo oddly. “As if the skull wasn’t bad enough on its own, eh? Why not add a snake going through its mouth?” He shoots his own arm a look of disgust and Harry chuckles quietly.

“We can go to Professor McGonagall if you despise it so much.” Harry suggests and leans back in his seat at the library.

“And what? Tell her that I just happened to wake up with a tattoo today?” Draco shakes his head violently and pulls his robe sleeve back down, picking up his quill after and immediately getting back to work.

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? Plus, I’m only trying to give you options here.” Harry shrugs and subconsciously brings a hand to his upper arm, rubbing it softly. Draco sighs and Harry takes that as a good enough response.

Not wanting to sit and waste any more time “studying”, he decides to attend to his rendezvous earlier than its scheduled time.

“Okay, I’m going.” He slips out of his seat and pats Draco on the head. “Don’t cry over it, Draco. I’ll ask Hermione about what it could be, if knowing about how it came about might make you feel better.” Harry doesn’t miss the way Draco nearly sneers.

“There’s no need to tell her about this.” He snipes and Harry widens his eyes in amusement. Draco’s hate for Hermione was really something to behold.

“Bye, Draco.”

Harry leaves the dark aisle of the library for the brighter, more crowded sections where he knows Hermione and her clan will be sprawled out; reading, studying, definitely not gossiping, not her at least.

He rubs at his arm again as he walks through the centre of the tall, cold library and bites his tongue upon feeling a sting of pain. He ignores it and pulls his hand back down, focusing more on the people in the library than on the wounds on his arm as he struts his way to the beginning of the room. Just as he predicted, there sit Hermione and her pride of Gryffindors, all, except the Weasel, absorbed in their own books and homework. He is taking turns glancing at his homework and at Hermione’s face, and doing a pathetic job at being discrete. Just to get on his nerve, Harry stops about ten feet away from their table and he singsongs.

“Stranger danger, calling Granger!” All eyes in their aisle snap towards Harry and he shoots them all a charming smile, then focuses on Hermione and her flushed, angry face. He almost laughs but he holds himself back, just to save himself from a hex. Then he takes a look at Weasley’s furious and frankly, constipated expression and loses all his resolve, bursting out laughing immediately.

“Fucking hell,” Weasley spits out and Harry clutches at his stomach, chuckling madly. He earns a ‘shut up’ and several shushes from the tables nearby and tones down his laughter for courtesy’s sake.