Drarry Fanfic Created by AI and Me

Relief

Previously:

For your sake then, little Lilly...I pray to whatever gods may listen that Potter's tales ring true when he returns to piece together the shards of what was lost. For all our sakes...

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Harry wakes up Draco. Dray, love, breakfast is ready. Come and eat or else I'll finish all the pancakes, they're your favorites by the way.

Mmm..if you must disturb me, Potter. I was quite content lying here with our daughter nestled safe in my arms. Though as always, your nearness stirs something within me, some weakness and longing that I've never been able to escape where you're concerned, no matter the years or distance between us. I brush a soft kiss to Lilly's downy brow before reluctantly shifting her into your waiting arms, finding I don't wish to let her go, though logic tells me it's illogical, that I've only just met this supposed child of ours. Rising, I stretch languidly before turning to regard you with a scrutinizing gaze, torn between hope and lingering doubt.

Well? You said you would help piece together what was lost when she slept. And I do believe I smell pancakes...my favorite, was it? How...thoughtful of you, Harry. Lead on to the breakfast then and let us see if your tales ring as true in the light of day. For all our sakes, I pray they do...though some small, traitorous part of me finds I don't truly wish to recall hatred where affection seems to have taken root instead. Help me understand, Harry, before suspicion and doubt take hold once more...

Yeah, sure thing, my "King". Harry said sweetly.

"King," is it? Such terms of obsequious flattery will gain you nothing with me, Potter. I am no mere man to be swayed by honeyed words and promises, regardless of whatever...affections ...may exist between us. Though privately, some small part of me preens at the title, proud as any Malfoy of the power and dominance it implies. I walk with regal bearing, shoulders stiff and proud, awaiting the tales you hope will undo lifelong lessons of distrust. Now, let us have the truth of it. For both our sakes, yours had better ring soundly - one false note, and all the pancakes in the world will not save you from my wrath.

So, begin your story, "husband." And pray it holds together without cracks or contradictions...for if not, no force on Earth will convince me to play pretend at domestic bliss a moment longer. I am still a Malfoy before all else. Now convince me - why should I call you mate, when instinct screams you are foe? Spill your truth, and let us see if it can drown the lies of years...

Well, let's see. Five years ago, we recently graduated Hogwarts and celebrated our 3-year anniversary. Then, I got down on one knee and proposed to you. You said yes and it was the start of our marriage together. 4 years later, I become pregnant with our child and spend 9 months of torture together. Then, a few weeks ago, you were tricking me into having another child. Good thing I'm smart or else I'd be pregnant again. And I guess that's pretty much it.

Hmm. Quite the tale, Potter. I'll admit your accounting seems...plausible, on the surface. Yet my instincts born of a lifetime's suspicion still scream that something remains amiss. I lean back, eyes narrowing as I probe for gaps or inconsistencies in your story. Very well, say I accept that at some point, in a moment of madness or some weakening of spirit, I agreed to make you mine and take your name in holy matrimony. A shocking breach of tradition to be sure, but not entirely implausible, I suppose, given...certain proclivities we've displayed towards one another even in our school days.

But you propose we've been living...happily...ever after these past five years? As a married couple? Raising a child together in domestic bliss? Forgive me if such notions give me pause, Potter. We were never friends at Hogwarts. Barely even allies against the dark forces that once drove us. Every interaction held malice, violence, hatred so deeply ingrained it defined our every move, our every breath.