“Oh my God, Draco! Look!”
Draco’s morning was going lovely. The harsh winter had started retreating, allowing the people in London to come out in scarfs, boots and hats and meet others who lived in the world.
The same could be said for Diagon Alley. The usual hustle and bustle was replaced with hushed conversation. Chimes of doors created a soft melody, and animals chittered and chattered in Magical Menagerie, calling for people who they could call home.
It was quiet in Harry’s shop, since no one was in any need of a wand in the middle of February, and Draco had a gotten a rare but long break from his curse-breaking business. Much deserved, in Harry’s opinion, I know it wasn’t easy, your last case. Now you can sleep in bed all day and cuddle with me instead!
They did not, in fact, stay and cuddle in bed all day. Instead, Harry had pulled Draco in Diagon Alley for a ‘romantic stroll, to get in the Valentine’s spirit’, and was currently tugging his arm hard enough for it to break apart.
“Merlin, what?” he grumbled, adjusting his hat which had toppled off during the rough-housing. He glanced towards his boyfriend to find his striking emerald-green eyes shining with mirth and bemusement, and softened.
Draco had spent many nights staring into those eyes, spilling out his soul, knowing the arms which held him would protect him from the horrors he had to face in his past. He’s seen those eyes fill with tears, the barrier behind them shattering with every word. Guilt, for the people who lost their loved ones in the war which came too soon. Anger, towards the adults who stripped him off his childhood, his innocence, and shoved him in a battle he didn’t want any part of. Draco saw those eyes and thought of home, something he’s only found in his mother before.
Harry brought him back to present, pulling him towards a street vendor with a cart filled with pinks and reds and whites, as if Cupid threw up here and donated everything he had instead of cleaning up.
In other words, it was ghastly, and Draco had no business being around such a thing, but of course, he would go wherever Harry took him. He hadn’t yet decided whether it was sappy or concerning.
Harry picked up a huge paper something, which was, in addition to being the worst shade of red, covered in glitter. Even picking the thing up let loose some glitter, which fell on Harry’s jumper and jeans. Draco brushed it off, and raised an eyebrow at him when Harry looked back with excitement.
“If you’re expecting wonder and joy, you’re looking at the wrong person,” he drawled. He looked at the cart to find something not valentine’s themed, but alas, even the small globe in the corner was in pink.
“Oh, don’t worry, I know you don’t have a heart. This one does, though.”
Ignoring the childish insult, he looked back at the card, and oh Merlin what the hell.
“Harry, sweetheart, love of my life, what the fuck,” he emphasized by shoving his finger on the card, “is that?”
“That, dear boyfriend of mine, is a human heart. A detailed drawing of a human heart, I’m honestly impressed.”
“I know what a human heart looks like,” he would’ve snapped but he was too bewildered and borderline disturbed, “why is it drawn on a valentines card looking all scary? That’s something an obsessive crazy stalker would give you before killing you.”
The card had ‘I give me heart to you this valentines’ written in a flowery script around it, as if that made the whole experience acceptable to polite society. Harry chuckled, and opened it. Which, of course, started screaming.
“ROSES ARE RED. VIOLETS ARE BLUE. I BOUGHT THIS STUPID MUGGLE CARD, JUST FOR YOU”
It had the audacity to shoot more glitter.
“I’m getting it,” Harry said, after a few seconds of shocked silence from them both.
“The hell you are,” Draco replied. “Don’t even think of giving that to me, we’ll break up before you even try to explain.”
Harry grinned, closing the card. He left a few sickles on the cart and looped his free arm around Draco’s, leaning up to peck the other’s cold lips.
“Don’t worry, darling, you already have my heart. This card is going to someone special.”
Feeling pleased, with a blush Draco knew would be starkly visible on his cold, pale cheeks, he harrumphed, and they both continued on their ‘romantic winter stroll’.
---
“What. The fuck. Was that.”
Ron Weasley looked quite dashing with glitter covering his freckled face and offensive carrot hair, if Draco says so himself.