Serendipity

Hurt/Comfort, divorced!grumpy!Harry lol.Thanks to @thebooktopus for the speedy beta! Any mistakes are my own :)

Even unconscious, Malfoy’s infuriating. 

Harry doesn’t know how long he’s lain there, awake in the stupid hotel room he’s somehow wound up sharing with Draco Malfoy—ex-nemesis, widower, and prat—but each ridicuously calm breath across the ‘respectful distance’ Malfoy’s left between them has his jaw clenching. 

This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to come to this idiotic parent’s retreat in the first place. It’s a complete waste of his time, everyone was vying for the scoop on his divorce, and he knew something would go wrong. But Ginny was away with the team, and Lily had given him her best puppy-dog eyes, so he hadn’t had a choice. And now he was sentenced to listening to Malfoy sleep, trying to ignore the rock-hard yet lumpy mattress digging into his back.

Alcohol,Harry decides when Malfoy lets out yet another contented sigh, and he seriously considers kicking the bastard. I need alcohol.

Scraping a hand down his face, he starts to reach for his glasses, but then Malfoy gives a sleepy hum, and an odd pressure settles in the centre of his back.

It has to be a hand—and Malfoy’s hand, at that. Which would explain why it’s warm. And soft, somehow, even through Harry’s old t-shirt, as it rests between his shoulder blades. Probably because he turned over in his sleep. Which means Harry should ignore it and carry on doing what he was doing. But try as he might to refocus on finding his glasses, his mind refuses to cooperate. 

It’s tingling. The skin on his back where Malfoy’s hand is. It’s tingling. And growing warm. But not the normal, sweat-warm sensation from another person’s contact. A gentle, glowing warmth that’s making things happenin Harry’s chest. 

It spreads, bubbles, and slowly, the hotel room fades until he’s there. In an armchair with Ginny in his lap whilst she runs a hand through his hair. There, at Ron and Hermione’s, with Ron’s arm around his shoulders, just because. There, with the kids on the sofa, the boys on either side and Lily on his lap, all snuggling close at the end of a long day of fun. 

Just— held.

He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it.

Unbidden, tears prick in his eyes, and he swallows down the urge to press back against Malfoy’s hand, to splay it open, firm and tender—or better, to turn over feigning sleep and roll into his arms—so he can pretend, just for a night, that he’s wanted. Treasured. Then heat wraps around him from behind.

“M—Malfoy?” he gasps, pale limbs covering his as a hand nestles itself on his chest. But only soft, even breaths answer.

He shouldn’t melt. Shouldn’t inch closer and mould his body to Malfoy’s. Shouldn’t twine his dark fingers with slender pale ones. And he definitely shouldn’t have hot tears streaking down his face. But when Malfoy gives another tiny hum and snuffles in his hair, Harry all but whimpers.

Just for tonight, he promises, clinging tighter to Malfoy. Just this once. 

And if Draco squeezes Harry gently when he finally starts to fall asleep, scheming as to how to orchestrate future serendipitous events, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

A cold, wet nose nuzzled Draco’s cheek, and he sighed. Light was filtering in through the blinds, and although his alarm hadn’t gone off yet, he was sure it wouldn’t be long. Just the thought of it buzzing was enough to pinch his brow together, and he curled up tighter, clinging to that warm, sleepy feeling.

Then a paw dropped onto his shoulder.

“Alright,” he sighed, dragging his eyes open to find Nala the golden retriever pawing and licking at the air in excitement. “Come on then.”

As he fought to untangle himself from the covers, however, arms snaked around him from behind, anchoring him to his husband’s chest.

“Where y'goin?” Harry murmured, honey-warm and soft with sleep. It made him shiver.

“Nala needs to pee, and then I need to get ready for work,” he said, drawing Harry’s arms further around him all the same—how could he not? Harry paused.

“Draco,” he said, voice ladled with amusement. “It’s Saturday.”

“… Oh.”

With a snicker, Harry squeezed him closer, calling him a twit. And though he gave him a light kick for his insolence, Draco couldn’t help but smile and press a kiss to the back of Harry’s hand, revelling in the resulting happy hum. But though he let his eyes drift closed, a huff caught their attention.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, squeezing Harry once more before climbing out of bed. “Let’s go pee.”

“Don’t be too long,” Harry murmured, and really, it should have been criminal for him to look so soft and sleep-mussed.

“We won’t,” Draco managed around the affection lodged in his throat.

After all, what we’re Saturday mornings for?

This is unbeta’d, and I’ve not even reread it, but this was my morning and I had to share :D I’m still working on the prompts for my 2k milestone too ❤️