Innocents Be Damned

Home

Draco has almost been married twice now, and Harry always heard that third time's the charm.

He twisted the ring between his fingers, contemplating his choice. 

Draco was the only person he'd ever truly loved in such a way. But they were only in high school, was this smart? 

Probably not.

He wondered if Draco would actually say yes.

The diamonds glinted in the sunlight, and Harry smiled sadly.

No, Draco wouldn't say yes.

Harry knew that Draco didn't love him, not in the way Harry loved Draco. 

Because Harry fell hard and fast and was in love with Draco the moment Draco's eyes lit up with recognition again and he whispered "I remember you."

He knew Draco didn't feel the same.

God, he loved the other boy so much, but of course Draco couldn't love him back. How could he? With Harry's rough exterior and sharp attitude and shitty ability to show his affection, Draco was better off without him in his life.

Draco was perfection in every sense of the word. He was sweet and funny and cute and his style was impeccable, and Harry loved when Draco did little glitter freckles across his nose, and Draco was the softest, sweetest, purest person Harry had ever met. Harry loved the way Draco would pass a mirror and scrunch up his nose, trying to fix his hair before Harry told him he looked beautiful no matter what. He loved the way Draco loved to take pictures of him and edit little butterflies around them to make Harry seem softer than he was.

That was the kind of person Draco deserved. Sweet and soft and adorable. Harry was none of that.

Ever since Harry had come into Draco's life, he had ruined it. Since meeting him, Draco had gotten beat up, almost raped, drugged, had his flower crown destroyed, been forced into two weddings, lost his memory, and been bullied.

Harry was toxic for Draco.

Harry blinked when he realized a drop of water was on the ring. When had he started crying?

Draco had brought nothing but light into Harry's life, and Harry had brought nothing but tragedy to the other boy.

Harry stood up without really thinking about it, shoving the ring in his pocket. He walked out the front door of Luna's house, ignoring the shouts from the others.

"Harry?" he heard Draco's voice call in worry. Harry almost paused, almost turned around and let himself break and be comforted, but he tensed up and continued to walk away.

He didn't stop walking until he reached the tattoo parlor. He showed the man the picture Draco had drawn him one evening after they had spent the night laughing and drinking hot chocolate. The man nodded and went to stenciling.

Harry didn't once regret his decision. He stepped out of the store, and as he walked home, he wondered if Draco would hate him for it.

He wondered when he started considering Luna's house "home."

And then he realized, Luna's house wasn't home. Home to him was wherever Hermione and Ron were playfully teasing. Home was where Pansy laughed brightly at Astoria's jokes. Home was where Draco hugged him tightly and didn't let go for the longest time. Home was where Ginny played soccer in the backyard, kicking Blaise's ass every time. Home was where Luna made them dinner every night, each dish delicious and mouth-wateringly incredible. Home was where Neville softly played piano in the living room. Home was where they had dance parties, and laughed around the table, and discussed their futures together. 

Home was with his friends, and Harry loved his home.