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The Heart Knows What It Wants

Summary:

When Heir Harry Potter realizes who he lost his Potter's Heart to, his first thought is: "are you kidding me?!"

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Heir Harry Potter feels the exact moment his Potter's Heart leaves his person.

 

It abandons him as he's following Charlotte, Ron, and Ginny to the library. They've all agreed to meet Hermione and Luna there after enjoying an afternoon of semi-serious Quidditch practice. He's freshly showered and has successfully washed away all traces of his previous activities, yet as soon as he feels the loss happen, it feels like he's breaking out into a new round of sweat that coats him more heavily than any shower spray can.

 

It's happening.

 

He internally gasps.

 

It's actually happening!

 

So as not to let himself remain out in the open while at his most vulnerable, he's forced to leave his sister and the youngest Weasley siblings to continue to the library without him, promising he'll explain everything later on when he hears their worried calls follow him back up the staircase they've just descended from. He makes his way to the portrait of the Fat Lady in record time, and has just enough awareness left to give her the right password before his mind is completely overtaken by the fact that he just LOST HIS POTTER'S HEART. His feet carry him to the correct dorm room on muscle memory alone, and his magic lashes out to form a protective field around him once he's safely seated on his bed—curtains drawn and everything.

 

The sensation is simultaneously precisely as his lord father has described in his many recollections about falling in love with his lady-wife, and the complete opposite to what Harry has been expecting.

 

The magic that his core has been storing since birth, funneled into a reservoir of raw emotion and power that makes up all Potter's Hearts, is sudden in its departure. As his father has warned, there's no gradual decrease in its potency until it's all gone or resistance from its owner as an effective last security measure. There's no time to prepare. There's no time to really think about it. Harry feels a sudden emptiness from the depths of his chest as soon as he's lost possession of his Potter's Heart. It's a feeling that doesn't hurt him, necessarily, but it's still noticeable enough to shock him after making it to 16 years of keeping his heart safely protected in the confines of his own core.

 

In the simplest of words, possibly the most understandable comparisons in the world of hypotheticals, he imagines it's equivalent to how witches must feel when they let their hair down after a long day. Hours of feeling the slight pull against their scalps and the gentle prods of pins and ties holding everything in place leaves behind an echo when the day settles, and they're allowed to let their hair return to its natural state. It's not painful, not foreign, not anything that has to be bad.

 

Just…present.

 

Like Harry's heart; more accurately, his loss of it.

 

In his heart's case, he also registers a cool sensation accompanying that initial emptiness. Like a fresh breeze has come to attempt to fill the 'gap' his Potter's Heart has left behind. It stays with him for what feels like whole hours, whereas his father had described his experience as something that only lasted a couple of seconds.

 

Harry supposes that's where they differ.

 

His father has always made it sound like he knew who would one day claim his heart. Even when it was bound by Grandpa Monty and Grandma Mia until he graduated Hogwarts, James Potter knew the witch who would one day house his Potter's Heart was Lily Evans. He'd known since he was in his Fourth Year. It was just a matter of maturing into someone she could trust to stand by her side, and then cultivating a true relationship through several courtship dates. The day his Potter's Heart was unbound and allowed to leave its owner, Harry's father described it as a tidal wave of love and relief on both his and his lady-wife's parts. The emptiness, and the following cold, didn't have time to bother him as his beloved's warmth flooded into him in return, and they both moved on to celebrating a sincere joining of their cores.

 

In stark contrast, Harry has never possessed such steadfast certainty about who would one day be in charge of protecting his Potter's Heart. He's had an idea, a name that's been floating in the back of his mind ever since he requested that his heart be unbound following his 15th birthday, but it's never been a sure-thing. Not like the confidence his father had in his mother.

 

He's been left unprepared for this day. He's been left unaware of its impending approach. He's been left-no, forced really, to embrace the emptiness and cool breeze of 'nothing' as he considers his position.

 

All of his own free will, at that.

 

He wants to tell himself that one reason for that was because he didn't want to jump into a relationship too soon. He's inherited both of his parents' tendency for loving fiercely (his friends can attest to that), and knowing that he was going to request that he have his heart unbound earlier than what his grandparents allowed for his father, he has long-since resolved to be more responsible about who earned it. He couldn't put his family through the agony of a broken Potter's Heart, not when he knew there were steps he could actively take to avoid it.

 

As a potential second reason for his lack of certainty; however, well…

 

There's nothing Harry can do or say to himself to make the situation lighter. The reality of it is that a big part of the reason he's been left unprepared has everything to do with the wixen who has perhaps…maybe…conceivably…possibly…most definitely at this point…caught his eye. It has everything to do with the name that has been floating around in his head for the past several years prior to having his heart unbound. It has everything to do with the blonde bloody git who's been haunting Harry's existence since before they even started attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry together!

 

Heir Draco Lucius Malfoy

 

The Slytherin has been Harry's rival since they were just tall enough to reach their mothers' kneecaps—the Gryffindor doesn't even remember how that happened, it's been too long since the catalyst event and it's been so ingrained in their history that it's difficult imagining a time where they were anything else—and he's somehow expertly navigated the minefield of maintaining a respectful competitive relationship between them without letting it dip into true enmity. He's been with Harry through thick and thin; watching his successes and his failures; even experiencing his highs and lows with him at times. He's been one of the main driving forces that has helped encourage Harry to push himself to his full potential, always ready to needle at the Gryffindor until Harry's meeting him head on. He's been one of the only 'outsiders' (Merlin, that sounded so ugly in his head, but Harry didn't know how else to describe someone who wasn't a friend, family member, or outright enemy) to see and accept every bit of Harry's character.

 

He's been one of the only 'outsiders' to understand Harry's character.

 

And Harry…Harry has seen that for the freedom it has been since day one.

 

He's seen that he can push at Heir Malfoy, and the blonde will push him right back. He's seen that he can outwit Heir Malfoy, and the other boy won't shame him for it, but will repay the favor at a later date. He's seen that he can make mistakes with Heir Malfoy, and though the Slytherin will undoubtedly poke at it in ways that seem mocking, it won't ever be out of malice. There's an invitation to look at the problem in a different light, to do better, in Heir Malfoy's jabs.

 

Harry has seen an equal in Heir Malfoy, and Heir Malfoy's behavior has long suggested that it may be a sentiment he returns.

 

That being said, just because Harry knows all of that exists between them, that doesn't mean he's ready to accept that he just lost his Potter's Heart to Draco sodding Malfoy! All of the respect in the world for their rivalry, and the strength behind the acknowledgement that Heir Malfoy might be one of the few who truly understand Harry well enough to be trustworthy with handling a Potter's Heart, doesn't make up for the fact that it's still Malfoy!

 

This is still the boy who goes out of his way to make it everyone's problem if something doesn't go how he wishes. This is still the boy who whines and pouts his way through the most trivial of inconvenient matters and most manageable of injuries. This is still the boy who peacocks his way throughout the school, and lives as if he doesn't know how to live if it isn't calling for others to bask in his presence.

 

It's…it's all…

 

It's all…ridiculous! The theatrics are over the top, even for the son of a Marauder! Why; Harry might go as far as to say that Heir Malfoy has enough…personality…on his own that he can make an entire saying about his future bloodline. Much like how the Potters have earned the reputation 'as devoted as a Potter', Heir Malfoy might just give his family their own saying: 'as dramatic as a Malfoy'!

 

And Godric knows that his behavioral attributes only seem to reach their peak whenever Harry is present. What starts off as mere sulking when Heir Malfoy doesn't immediately perfect a Transfiguration spell turns into a round of relentless goading until Harry's snaps and decides to remind everyone in the vicinity that it was HIS father who was one of the best at Transfiguration during his enrollment at Hogwarts.

 

(Almost as if he's intentionally being summoned to Heir Malfoy's side.)

 

What starts off as mere strings of whimpering or light episodes of whining when he gets so much as a parchment cut turns to cried complaints of "oh, the pain!" and dramatic swoons and pained moans that would get Heir Malfoy banned from the library for life. All the way up until Harry tries to leave the area, lest he give into the temptation to Stupefy Heir Malfoy. And even then, running only works half of the time. The other half is usually spent enduring more of Heir Malfoy's grievances as he finds the most absurd reasons to somehow be where Harry has retreated to, where Harry is left with no choice but to snap into action to get the prat to shut up!

 

(Almost as if Heir Malfoy needs Harry to be the one to do something about his ailments for any healing to happen.)

 

Of course, there's Harry's personal favorite for last: what starts off as silent, but smug satisfaction when Heir Malfoy accomplishes something turns into a challenge for Harry to 'catch up' or a demand that the Gryffindor recognize his Slytherin rival's achievement.

 

(Almost as if Heir Malfoy needs Harry's response, his attention, for his victories if the blonde wants them to mean something.)

 

It's a lot. It's all too much!

 

Sweet Salazar, just remembering all of it fills Harry with a faint dread. If that's how Heir Malfoy behaves around him on a day-to-day basis, he doesn't want to think about how the Slytherin will act if he finds Harry now. There's no way he hasn't felt Harry's heart lodge itself into his body and surround his own core. There's no way he hasn't recognized the foreign magic for what it is. There's no way he hasn't realized he's now in possession of a Potter's Heart! Harry's Potter's Heart at that, seeing as how his younger sister has never given any indication that she harbored any interest in Heir Malfoy, nor does she currently possess the means to give away her Potter's Heart. Still protectively bound by the family magic as it is.

 

There won't be any living with him after this! Just…no way!

 

Harry hugs himself tightly and groans outloud in despair.

 

He's never going to let this go. Even if he doesn't return my…my…my-my feelings…and returns my heart because of it, I just know he'll see this as one of his greatest achievements. It's a victory for him; just like getting the highest score in a test is, or receiving the most praise for an essay is. It's…it's something he'll…it's something he'll boast about! Something he'll hold onto forever and…and-!

 

Harry sighs as his thoughts become jumbled at that point, one concern just crashing into another until it becomes an incomprehensible stream, even to himself. He shakes his head to try and clear away some of the turmoil that's successfully thrown any sense of logic far out of his mind, and his attempts are rewarded with exaggerated resignation.

 

He just…he won't-he won't be…he won't be able to let it go.

 

(Almost as if earning Harry's heart truly IS one of the worthiest accomplishments he's achieved in a lifetime. As if…as-as if he…as if he's INCAPABLE of letting Harry go after that…)

 

Harry tries to ignore how his physical heart races at the chance that Heir Malfoy might actually want him that way. Having his Potter's Heart, his Potter's devotion, accepted and returned is a dream; of course it is. He's always wanted the same powerful bond that exists between his parents, and has spent countless hours imagining he would one day share such a special connection with his bonded. Something they would forever lovingly nurture and reinforce with shared love until it was time to cross over the Veil, where they would reunite and continue with how they loved in live.

 

But this is still Malfoy!

 

This was still Heir Malfoy, with his dramatics and theatrics and peacocking and insufferable whining and constant need for Harry's-!

 

"Harry? You're in here, right?"

 

…crap.

 

Taking a few forces breaths, Harry gives himself approximately ten seconds to get his act together before calling back: "Yeah, yeah!"

 

He knows that this is going to look strange-scratch that, it must already look strange; how he was quick to get away from any social interaction earlier, but now sounds as if he's prepared to walk onto the Quidditch pitch and steal a victory for Gryffindor. Unfortunately, any excuses that he can think up fall away before they can fully form in his head, and he resolves that he'll just have to admit his previous retreat had something to do with his Potter's Heart once he hears Ron out.

 

He's glad it's Ron, to be honest. Surprised, but glad. Were Charlotte here instead, she'd probably figure out what has happened before Harry could sort things out with Heir Malfoy, and be on her way to threatening him.

 

Whiiiiich…now that he thinks about it…

 

Oh no; trying to figure things out on her own is probably exactly why Charlotte isn't here.

 

Harry will have to tend to that immediately after he deals with Heir Malfoy if he wants to keep the other students of the school safe from a protective Potter.

 

At the moment though, he'll deal with what's been thrown into his lap first.

 

He clears his throat as he answers the redhead, hoping to drive away any hysteria that has crawled its way up (despite his efforts to calm himself) and is waiting for the perfect opportunity to coat his next words in a layer of insanity. He doesn't open his curtains yet though, he rubs his face with his hands to wipe away any alarm or other suspicious expression he may be wearing. Only when he's semi-confident that there's nothing incriminating to showcase does he let the ward that his magic has cast around him fall and he draws the curtains open to reveal himself.

 

"What's up?"

 

There's only one word that can accurately describe Ron's current visage, and that's: awkward. Even with his head turned slightly and his gaze cast down to the floor, Harry can make out a bright blush painted across his freckled cheeks. Both lips have been pressed together and looked like they were in the process of being sucked into his mouth as well.

 

"Is everything alright?" Harry pushes himself off of his bed, prepared to walk over to Ron to better console him, but he's stopped in his tracks at his friend's answer.

 

"Malfoy stormed over to me as soon as your sister, Ginny, and I found 'Mione and Luna in the library. Told me he had something urgent to talk to you about, then left." Ron shrugs, but it's more of a way of fidgeting than anything. Honestly, it has the same energy as someone who looks like they don't know what else to do with their body, they just don't want to stand still. "Normally, I wouldn't take him at face value, but he looked…well, he looked like he meant business. That's the only way I can describe it."

 

Dammit.

 

So, there's no prolonging this, is there? Not the confrontation with Heir Malfoy, and not with having to calm Charlotte down before she threatens the House of Slytherin into paranoia to protect her older brother.

 

"Did he tell you where he wants to talk?" Harry's fists tighten at his sides, and he squares his shoulders. He doesn't feel as sturdy as his stance should probably make him feel, he still wants to hide away until this dies down. He wants to spare himself Heir Malfoy's reaction until he absolutely can't afford to any longer.

 

But…Malfoy has come to him. He's technically taken the first step and Harry, he…he can't…

 

He can't just back down. Not like this.

 

That's never been their relationship. Come Hell or high-water, they've always been right there with one another.

 

"Astronomy Tower. He didn't have any of his cronies with him when he stopped by, so I'm hoping that means he's alone, but if he isn't…" Ron looks up as his voice trails off. He sounds worried as he asserts: "If he has other people with him, none of us will hesitate to back you up too. Just come get us, yeah?"

 

"Of course." Harry nods firmly.

 

He doesn't mention how Charlotte will probably feel his alarm over their sibling bond and bring down the Astronomy Tower to get to him before any more damage can be done. It won't comfort Ron, it'll just rile the taller Gryffindor up more.

 

As he walks to the threshold of the dorm room, he takes the chance to hug Ron. Partly to soothe his friend's nerves, partly to soothe his own. "I'll let you know how things go when I can."

 

He doesn't wait for Ron to respond before he's pulling away and speed-walking down to the Common Room. He passes a few younger Years as he makes his way to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, and further distracts himself from this upcoming confrontation by nodding a greeting at each of them as he exits. He doesn't see all of them nod back, he leaves before he can, but he can't think about other things he can use to stall.

 

His feet are taking him to the familiar path of the Astronomy Tower without much of a conscious thought. Much like his journey to Gryffindor Tower, it's muscle memory that guides him as he treks up the correct staircases and walks down the right halls. He might not have taken any more years of Astronomy than he had to, but the tower has always been a favorite place of his when he wants to be alone. That, and the grounds of the Thestral herd, since the Potter siblings and Luna are usually the only students who consistently visit the gentle creatures.

 

His mind feels heavy as he gets closer and closer to his destination, thoughts weighing down on him even when he can't distinguish one from another. It's like a cloud has manifested over his consciousness, dosing him in an unrelenting haze. Or filling him with a fog—or maybe it's a buzz—that makes focusing on anything other than pure feeling difficult.

 

It doesn't get better when he's finally ascending the staircase that'll take him to the top floor of the tower. His mind continues to torment him with incredulous questions about 'how could this happen?' and exasperation for his situation. All the way up until he's stopping at the head of the staircase, now under the watchful eye of the last person he feels prepared to confront.

 

"Heir Malfoy." Harry nods his head at the blonde, determined to at least get the first word in before the stifling silence can topple his thoughts into oblivion.

 

Heir Malfoy, for his part, nods back instantly. His posture is interesting to analyze; leaned back against the guard rails of the tower as he is. It's deceivingly casual in how Heir Malfoy allows his back to completely rest against the metal structure and his arms settle somewhat behind him, hands gripping the top surface loosely. His right leg has also bent, and now comes to wrap around the front of his left leg, almost as if it's using its counterpart as a brace. Yet, when Harry's eyes fall onto his shoulders, specifically, he can detect some rigidity in Heir Malfoy's body. Save for his back, the rest of his upper body is tense. His shoulders don't slouch or even rest, and they're not allowed up to his ears as one would expect from someone who might be actively pushing against a surface they're gripping. Instead, they're nearly perfectly straight as they sit at their normal height.

 

Harry doesn't know what any of this can mean, and there's nothing to take away from it, but the clashing implications refuse to release his attention. On a normal day, details can mean everything when conversing with someone, be they friend, distant ally, foe, or outright enemy. Here and now, that truth of life feels like it's been magnified by ten.

 

At least until Heir Malfoy speaks. Then Harry's free to walk away from one hyperfixation onto the next.

 

"You know why you're here." Heir Malfoy arches a brow, and it's unfair how attractive he looks while doing that.

 

Again, with the smallest details…! Godric, help me.

 

Harry has seen many instances where such a gesture has been used condescendingly. He has been there when an arched brow was accompanied by a cutting remark and a derusive sneer. When an arched brow was equivalent to 'are you TRULY so intellectually impaired?', and the words may as well have manifested into a physical speech bubble next to Heir Malfoy's face. When an arched brow signaled that the Ice Prince of Slytherin thought himself to be interacting or addressing someone who was beneath him. With such an association, it shouldn't be possible for him to find Heir Malfoy arching his brow a nice sight in any which way, but here he is! His physical heart once more racing as the Slytherin fixes him with his full attention.

 

"I couldn't control it." It's not the best response, hardly the safest when he doesn't know Heir Malfoy's exact feelings about this yet, but it's the only one Harry can get out when he too still has no plan for how he wants this conversation to go. "I-I didn't…I didn't have the…the time or…or the chance to even think about it before-"

 

"Shhhhhh." Heir Malfoy's brow lowers as he pushes off of the rail, seemingly spurred on by Harry's attempt at a defense. His legs uncross as he straightens, and he's standing still for all of one second before quickly making his way to Harry.

 

The Gryffindor, for his part, instinctively wants to meet his rival in the middle. It's always been their way, afterall. But he's cemented to the spot until Heir Malfoy's directly in front of him, left hand coming to rest over his own heart as his right hand reaches up to cup Harry's chin. The hold is delicate, Harry could break free easily by tilting his head an inch either direction if he so wanted.

 

But…he doesn't.

 

He doesn't feel like his safety or his honor has been compromised yet, so he finds it difficult to gather the strength to move.

 

He's locked in place as Heir Malfoy finds his gaze, and liquid silver burns through dark emeralds.

 

"Before you say anything else, answer me this: do you regret it?" Heir Malfoy's words come out as a whisper. "Do you regret letting your heart be unbound now that you know who has it? Do you regret not having full control of it?"

 

His tone is difficult to decipher, and Harry is of two minds about it. The gentleness of the delivery makes it seem like Heir Malfoy is coaxing honesty out of him. Like Harry needs to be convinced to give nothing but the whole truth. However, he's doing it in a way that makes it impossible for Harry to be indignant about the idea that he would ever lie about something as important as this. There's nothing demeaning or disbelieving in his cadence, it's just…just…

 

It's all just innocence, almost childlike in its nature, as strange as it feels to use that term for Heir Malfoy. Innocence in its purest and most curious form.

 

On the other side of things, Harry also detects a grim undertone to Heir Malfoy's question. There's an ominous hesitation to the blonde's attitude; a warning that Harry could call upon a storm if he's not careful about how he continues this discussion.

 

A Potter's Heart may have magical consequences if it's broken, but a Malfoy's…anything!…shouldn't be trifled with either.

 

Swallowing harshly, Harry blurts out an answer without giving it any thought, trusting that his instincts won't lead him astray. It's honestly in its rawest form, as Heir Malfoy has requested of him.

 

"I don't think I can ever regret falling in love." It's dangerous to name his predicament so early on, but Harry pushes through. "But…I-I AM nervous about this. About…about what it…what it could-what it will lead to. I know you, Heir Malfoy. I know you'll be absolutely insufferable about this for the rest of our lives. And…and I-I don't know how to-to…"

 

Fight that?

 

Handle that?

 

Accept that?

 

Embrace that?

 

Harry tries to search for the right words. Just as he's put a name to the situation they've both found themselves in, he wants to label his concern. He wants to identify it. He needs to, if he wants to find a way to make peace with it and hopefully resolve it in the future.

 

Heir Malfoy doesn't give him much of a chance.

 

Five seconds into Harry's sputtering, the blonde's thumb extends outward until it's pressed against Harry's lips. It doesn't try to push past them, Harry might just bite the appendage off if it tries, but it silences him all the same.

 

Just as well, the gesture is still gentle, now with no signs of gloominess or caution to be found.

 

Unlike Heir Malfoy's expression, which has become obvious with desire as he holds Harry's gaze. His gaze is dark and penetrative, looking every bit like the Slytherin is trying to force back the magic guarding Harry's soul and lay claim to it in the same way he stole Harry's heart. His lips have pulled into one of his most wicked smiles up to date, wide and curling at the corners just enough that it almost looks uncomfortable. Like that fuzzy green creature his mother once told him about when introducing muggle Christmas stories to him and his sister.

 

What was that thing called? The…the Gripe? The Grouch? The Grinch?

 

Whatever the creature is called, Heir Malfoy's smile reminds Harry of its supposedly-notorious expression with how little subtly can be found in his current display.

 

"Of course I'm going to be insufferable about this." Heir Malfoy mumurs.

 

Oh, let the spirits of High Lord Godric Gryffindor, High Lord Salazar Slytherin, High Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, and High Lady Helga Hufflepuff save Harry—there's a purr in the other boy's voice now. A bloody purr! Isn't Gryffindor the House with a lion mascot? They're supposed to be the big cats of Hogwarts! Why can't snakes just stick with their hisses and spitting venom?!

 

"I finally have everything I've ever wanted." The blonde continues, his magic seeming to activate with his words.

 

Whereas before—when Harry had yet to confirm that he didn't necessarily regret falling in love with Heir Malfoy—the Slytherin's magic had been passive, now it surges outward towards Harry's magical core.

 

Forget his father's tidal wave analogy, this feels like he's being swallowed whole by a ravenous dragon!

 

As Harry expects from dark affinities, Heir Malfoy's magic locks around him with the resolution of a steel shackle. It's colder than Harry's own magic; frigid compared to the breeze he once thought was attempting to fill the 'gap' his Potter's Heart left behind; solid compared to the crackle of energy he wields when he calls upon his magic; and inescapable now that it's invaded his half of their connection. It digs past his core's natural defenses against outside influences like a dragon's claw, and sinks into him without hesitation.

 

For the first time in his life, Harry feels like prey.

 

In the midst of everything, Heir Malfoy leans down to press their foreheads together. It puts Harry almost unbearably close to his eyes once more, on top of coming face-to-face with the full weight of Heir Malfoy's magic. If this goes on any longer, he might melt into sludge from the intensity of the other boy's attention.

 

"And I have no intention of ever letting it go."

 

Harry can swear that his physical heart stops in his chest at that….that…that admittance. That confession!

 

His body still feels like it's close to melting under Heir Malfoy's touch, but at least his mind has finally decided to cooperate. His thoughts are now coherent, organized. They feel structured and sure.

 

So…that answers that, I guess. All of those over-the-top theatrics WERE strategically done, then.

 

Harry could groan at the realization. He doesn't yet know if it'll be out of pain, or reluctant, hysterical acceptance of the makeshift bond that's still in the midst of solidifying between them. And something tells him that's a conflict that'll be following him and Heir Malfoy for the foreseeable future.

 

Why did my heart choose Draco Malfoy? Just…why.?!

 

Notes:

Hello, everyone!

I wanted to write a fic that actually touches upon what it means for a Potter to lose their "heart", and figured that since I've done a lot of oneshots that center on Harry or Draco gushing about one another, it'd be really funny to do one where Harry is actually suprised with who his heart chose.

Don't get me wrong, I will write characters simping for each other without shame (especially if the pairing is Drarry), but I wanted to write something new compared to what I've done for previous oneshots.

I hope you all enjoy it!

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