Seventh Year Vibes

who knows

A/N- Hello! this will probably be the last chapter so I'll try to make it long ish. thank you for all the reads!

▪Six years later▪

Six years had passed.
Six whole, long years since they had started dating.
Six years since unrequited love was finally mutual.
Never once did they doubt the love or the trust.

Of course it was a hard six years. Work was tiring, coming out was stressful. But it was an amazing six years. They were happier together than they had ever been.

Draco had somehow managed to grow during the six years. Four and a half inches exactly. Seven inches taller than Harry.
  Of course Harry pretended to be mad about it, but secretly he loved it. He loved the forehead kisses and the hugs that made him feel so safe.

Draco hated him Dark Mark. It reminded him of death, of pain, of terrible days. And so when Harry suggested they go to a Muggle tattoo artist to cover it, he agreed.

Over the mark, he got a ring of pure white and violet narcissas, in honor of his mother, the woman who had countlessly risked her life to save her (and once even Harry's).

Of course you could still see the mark.  But now something positive surrounded it. It reminded him of love.

With Harry he got a joint tattoo. A black semi colon on his forefinger. It showed that they had lived. Survived. They hadn't ended their story.

What Draco loved most about Harry was the way he spoke. He loved the pure sarcasm and sass, and the way he said "I love you". Like he meant it.

Harry's favourite thing about Draco was how he cared. He never forgot a single birthday, or anniversary. Draco even made an effort to remember Ron and Hermione's birthday. He made Harry know that he cared for him, and his friends. Because love is about trust, and caring.

Harry and Draco slept together. They slept under bedcovers that Narcissa had donated. They made Draco feel safe.
Nightmares flooded their dreams. Harry would often wake up, screaming or crying. Sirius. Cedric. Remus. Tonks. Everyone who he could have saved,if he had sacrificed himself earlier.
Draco woke up too, but he did it discreetly, as to not wake up Harry. Nonetheless, Harry still sensed Draco's discomfort, and he would put his hand around Draco, whispering comfortingly.

Of course they had arguments. It's impossible to be in a relationship without arguing. But they would sort it out. Compromise. Because love is about compromising.

When they were 23 Andromeda got sick, and couldn't look after Teddy. Teddy came to live with them. Harry tended to Andromeda, and Draco tried his best to look after the little boy.

Andromeda got better, but Harry refused to let her leave. And so they lived as a happy family of four.

Andromeda charmed the bed. They no longer experienced nightmares. And it was great.

Then often visited the Weasleys. Ginny and Luna, with their two daughters, Minnie and Molly.

Ron and Hermione visited too, with their little daughter Rose. She was an exact image of Hermione, with her short, curly hair and tan skin. She had her father's freckles.

Teddy was the heart of the family. He would change the colour of his hair at least twenty times a day, but in the end, he always stuck with blue. He loved wearing his father's old sweaters (which were far too big on him) and his mother's skirts.

It was on one dull day, when Draco and Harry decided to go over to Grimmauld Place to clean it, that Harry found out the truth about Regulus Arcturus Black.
While clearing Sirius' room, he found a locked box under his bed (which only opened after you said the words "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good"). In the box he found old pictures of James and Sirius, a picture of James kissing Lily, two laughing women, which Harry suspected to be Marlene and Dorcas, a picture of Peter and James high fiving, and a photo of Sirius, kissing Remus under the mistletoe. Harry teared up.

Under the pile of photos Harry found a diary. He read each entry. According to the dates, it was started on the fifth of October 1971. The entry contained a bunch of pranks that they planned to do on Halloween, and the usual things that eleven year old boys do.
The last entry didn't have a date. Reading it made Harry cry.

Dear Journal,
Reg is gone. I found books about Horcruxes in his room. Is he going to try and make one? Or is this a mission you-know-who has given him?
I'm worried about Reg. Yesterday I went to Grimmauld Place to collect something from my room, and I found a note plastered to the side of my bed. "Dear Sirius, I'm so sorry for everything I've done. I love you. I hope you know that. I never wanted to do any of this. Now I will do what I'm supposed to do. R.A.B".
What does that mean? Where is he? I shouldn't of shunned him. I never should have... Stupid boy. He's probably dead. I can't take this. I have to talk to James. Bye.

Harry knew what had happened. Regulus had done something brave. He had rebelled against the death eaters. A hero.

Several years passed. Harry and Draco decided to expand the family. They adopted a newborn baby boy, who's mother had died giving birth. They decided on the name James Sirius.

By age thirty they adopted two more children. Twins. A girl and a boy. Lily Narcissa and Rubeus Remus. Draco didn't mind letting Harry name their children. He knew how much it meant for him.

And although many years had passed since the war had ended, they were still scarred, and the images still haunted them, and each headache seemed like a return of Voldemort, life was so much better than it had been.

All was well.