Drarry Oneshots (𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆)

Your Daddy Knows (You're A Flame) Ladderofyears

Top!Harry

Bottom!Draco

Author: Ladderofyears ( on ao3 )

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"Bloody hell," Draco whined, pushing his bowl of Every Flavour Beans into Harry's lap. "I have to pee again. Pause this Muggle nonsense would you? I've already committed too much time to give up on it now-"

Harry pressed their TV remote, freezing their television on a particularly realistic looking dragon. Someone in the production of the show was definitely a wizard.

"Again?" Harry asked, chasing a green jelly bean around the bowl with his fingers. He hoped it was mint flavoured, rather than the quite vile cabbage one that he'd snagged the week before. "Is everything okay?" he asked belatedly. "You're weeing like a Hippogriff on heat, love. Every five minutes."

Draco gave him a withering look from the doorway. "Merlin, but that's a revolting saying and no, there's nothing wrong with me. A few too many teas with Pansy earlier is all."

Harry looked up at Draco affectionately. "I just care is all," he said, dropping the jelly bean back in the bowl. Best not to risk it. "And you don't need to be coy with me, Malfoy. We've had a baby together, remember? No point being shy with me after that."

Draco's only reply was a dismissive shake of his head. He turned around and sauntered primly out of the room and Harry let his eyes trail over his husband's retreating back.

Draco was as gorgeous as ever, his supple hips clad in low slung, silky pyjama bottoms and an old Harpies tee shirt that skirted over his physique, clinging in all the right places.

Draco didn't believe that his body was as tidy as it'd been before Isadora had been born nine months before but Harry couldn't see any flaws whatsoever. In his opinion, Draco looked more beautiful than he ever had before, the slight, with silvery stretch marks patterning his tummy the only evidence on his body of the daughter that they'd made together. Isa and Draco were the brightest stars in Harry's sky and he still couldn't get over how lucky he was to share his life with them both.

It was only a few minutes before Draco returned and sat down next to Harry, curling in close to his side. Harry flicked the switch on their remote and the action blared back into life on the screen.

Draco had a strange relationship with Muggle technology. He claimed to loathe it, yet often his husband could barely draw his eyes from the screen. He'd confessed to Harry that he struggled to understand sometimes that it wasn't all real and now, as a dragon soared over a ruined city, Draco clutched tight to his hand. Even Harry had to admit that the beast looked a little too close to a Hungarian Horntail to be entirely easy viewing.

The pair of them watched in silence for a moment, focussing on the action on the screen and Harry snaked a comforting arm around Draco's shoulders.

Harry loved these precious moments at the end of their days, when Isa was safely tucked up in her little cot upstairs, her bedroom charmed to keep her cool and comfy and a monitoring spell set to keep her safe.

Photographs of their little girl covered every wall, jostling for space alongside older pictures of their friends and family. The only light in the room came from the late May dusk that lit the sky over their Grimmauld Place gardens and from their wands, set to shine a subtle Lumos over the sitting room. He leant over and pressed a loving kiss into Draco's soft hair.

But, two minutes later, Draco was fidgeting once more.

"Harry," he asked, "shall I get us some of those mini-Pumpkin Pasties that I brought from the Elven bakery on the way home? My tummy is grumbling and some wizard that I'm not going to name ate all the Every Flavour Beans-"