It was strange, how Draco's dormitory at Hogwarts felt more like home than his bedroom in the manor. The mattress might've been king-sized and plush, the rugs on his shiny hardwood floor may have been extravagant, the room itself huge and with many windows—but he found himself already missing the company of his roommates and his friends. He craved the well-meaning taunts from Blaise, he longed for Theo's calming presence, he wanted Pansy's no-nonsense attitude. He even found himself wishing for Hermione's witty quips. And of course, Draco missed everything about Harry. There was no possible way to narrow it down to just one thing that he yearned for; Harry was an entity that couldn't be divided up. The very absence of his boyfriend felt strange in and of itself. Draco constantly found himself wondering why he felt so cold, so... hollow.
Two days. Draco had already spent two days in Malfoy Manor, avoiding his father and trying to find a moment alone to talk with his mum—only she was being constantly bombarded with last-minute plans for the party that would be taking place the next night. He hadn't been able to find a convenient time to just... talk with her. He hadn't slept since he'd left Hogwarts—no matter how hard he'd tried, how long he'd lay in bed for, sleep evaded him. The dark circles growing under his eyes were a nightmare to look at.
So, spread-eagled across his bed, Draco stared at his phone, waiting for Harry to be done with football practice and answer the texts he'd sent.
Draco: Harryyyyyyyyyyy
Draco: I know you're in practice
Draco: But I'm sooo boooored
Draco: I need entertainment
They'd been texting and calling each other nearly nonstop since Draco had left two days ago. Harry had called him each night before he went to bed, asking for every dull detail of Draco's day, from what he'd drawn in his sketchbook to what he'd eaten for breakfast. The blond was just as information-hungry, practically demanding to know everything about his boyfriend's day along with their friends'. Secluded in this house, Draco felt isolated from the people he'd made into his own makeshift family.
He missed the warmth of Harry's presence. His smile, his laugh. His body. Draco's mind continually drifted to the feeling of being wrapped up in his boyfriend, being curled together with him and tangled in his sheets; he'd snuck some of Harry's clothes with him just to get some remnant of that feeling—his football hoodie, a few t-shirts, a pair of sweatpants, all of which were ridiculously big on him—though he had a sneaking suspicion that Harry knew.
Finally, after his eyes had unfocused staring at the ceiling, Draco's phone pinged. Unashamedly scrambling to immediately unlock his phone, he grinned at his boyfriend's response, laughing to himself.
Harry: Well obviously you take precedent over my entire football career, my love
Harry: I can't believe I've been wasting my time running mile after mile when instead I could have been entertaining you
Draco: Haha very funny
Draco: How long did Hooch make you run this time?
Harry: Originally it was only supposed to be six
Harry: But then Fred and George finally managed to make one of their stink bombs go off in the locker room, and coach made us all run eight
Draco: I knew those Weasleys were all barbarians
Harry: I'm starting to think you're right, my love. But don't worry, the team and I have devised a plan to get back at them
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Shoulder Pillow
FanfictionHarry didn't know what to do. On a late night flight to London, Harry meets a blond boy. Well, more like a blond boy falls asleep on his shoulder and Harry thinks he's really cute. Draco didn't know what to do. On a flight that was much too late fo...
