Saving Draco Malfoy - Drarry

2-

When the next morning arrives, Ginny is packed and ready to leave for her tour.

"I'll miss you, Ginny."

She gives him a soft smile and puts her arms around his neck like she used to in 7th year, closing her eyes and nuzzling into his shoulder.

"I know. I'll miss you too." She says, her words muffled, she turns her head to the side, "I wish you were coming along to the burrow so we wouldn't have to say goodbye for another day."

He sighs,
"Sorry Gin- work."

"I know."

"So I guess I'll see you at Christmas."

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he repeats.

She looks down at her feet,
"Harry, I'm sorry. I know this is hard for you. It's going to be hard for the both of us."

"You're living your dream, Gin. You deserve it. Who am I to stand in your way?"

There's a pause and Ginny seems to tense up.

"Yes."

He smiles into her hair,
"Hmm?"

She pauses and pulls away to look in his eyes,
"Yes. I'll marry you. When this season is over, I'll marry you."

Harry almost jumps into the air he's so elated.

"Ginny! You mean it?" He spins her around,
"You were so unsure yesterday. I don't want to pressure you."

She rolls her eyes.

"I mean it, Harry. I love you. And it gives us something to look forward to. Plus mum will be beyond excited."

He buries his head in her hair again in a sickeningly cute way, enjoying the smell of her shampoo, the flowery scent from his amortentia.

"I love you."

"I know. That's why I said yes." She pulls away again, "See you soon, Harry Potter. Promise you'll write?"

The question reminds him of the run in with Mrs. Malfoy the week before. So much has happened since then.

"I promise."

He kisses her cheek gently. She steps into the fireplace and with a toss of floo powder and some clear direction, she disappears.

The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly as Harry fills out some paperwork for his auror training.

He sighs. Harry never really wanted to be an auror, but it's what everyone expected of him.

The real question is why.

Why would they think he wants to spend his life in constant danger after doing it for 17 years without a choice?

He decides to pull out some parchment and write to Mrs. Malfoy.

I did promise after all, he reasons, paying special attention to keeping his handwriting neat.

Dear Mrs. Malfoy,

I wasn't planning on writing to you so soon, but I felt that it would get more awkward the longer I waited.

Anyway, things have been pretty busy lately. Ginny was offered a position with the Holyhead Harpies and she accepted. This means that my schedule is pretty free these days. Not that that's a bad thing. It gives me time to work and such.

He stops writing. The letter sounds sort of pitiful but he resists the temptation to crumble it up and start over.

How's Draco?
Harry writes before he can resist.

I haven't seen him since the trials, and then it was only a glimpse.

I hope you're both doing alright.

Um.. well I feel bad about wasting your time with such an unimportant letter, so I'll end it here.

Yours truly,
Harry J. Potter

He sends the letter off with his new owl that Hagrid gifted him on his last birthday. His 21st.

The owl's a handsome thing, Harry named him Ibis. He has long tawny feathers and a delicate sparkle in his eye. No matter how great he is though, he's no Hedwig.

When the letter arrives at the Malfoy's, Narcissa plucks it out of the owl's beak and feeds him a small treat.

She reads over it and a small smile passes over her face.

"Who's the letter from, Mother?" Draco asks from across the room, almost entirely immersed in his newspaper.

"Harry Potter."

"You aren't serious," he snorts not looking up.

"He asked about you."

That seems to catch his attention and Draco closes his reading sharply, causing a rustle of papers to fill the quiet manor. He is startled by the simplicity of the statement.

"Right well. You can tell Saint Potter I'm doing just fine. He doesn't have to worry about me killing any innocent civilians."

Mrs. Malfoy eyes him over her reading glasses.

"He just sounded generally curious, Draco, dear. Must you be so dramatic?" 

He shifts around in his seat and tries to come across as less unnerved,
"Honestly mother, did you expect any less?"

He decides to ask what he actually wants to know, "Why's he writing you anyway?"

"We ran into each other and I asked him to."

This makes him suck in his cheeks and glare at her. "Well this is bloody ridiculous! I'll see you at dinner," he says with a huff, closing his book pointedly and exiting the room.

She doesn't take the behaviour personally. Draco has also been quick-tempered about all things concerning The Boy Who Lived.

Reading over the letter once more, Narcissa Malfoy comes to a conclusion.

This child needs a mother, maybe two. And she gladly volunteers.

'I'll do anything I can to make him feel like he's safe now. He grew up much too fast.'

She looks in the direction of the hallway.

Just like Draco did.

Later that day, as she's replying to his letter, she looks at her son across the silent dinner table.

She knows something even he himself doesn't seem to know.

Draco Malfoy is clearly, helplessly in love with Harry Potter. He has been since before fourth year. And though she doesn't know if it's meant to be, she's determined to do anything she can to make her son happy.

And if Harry Potter is the key, then maybe it won't be all that hard.

(Edits done: how has my writing changed this much and thank merlin it has 03/20/18)