Everlasting (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

The Portrait of Us

When all the museums were finished, you decided to take a break before heading to the National Gallery. You and Draco made your way to a nearby cafe, in which you took your seats. Draco was in awe at this world, but he could not deny how intrigued he was. To see people living their lives this way, without magic - it seemed bizarre to him. How did they survive? Nevertheless, he could not help but grow even more curious when he saw your easiness of living without magic. The entire day you did not even feel the need to cast a spell, or talk about magic. You really did have the best of both worlds. You passed the menu towards Draco, explaining to him what each and every piece of food was, especially the muggle cakes and muggle snacks. Drinks he generally knew, only grew curious at the odd combinations.

"I'll have ... this hot chocolate. What is After Eight?"

"It's a mint chocolate. They're really good."

"Alright, I'll have the After Eight hot chocolate. And could I get this ... Victoria Sponge?"

"Of course," you smiled. "I'll go for the After Eight hot chocolate as well, and a Red Velvet cake."

"Red Velvet? Sounds odd."

"Everything sounds odd to you," you rolled your eyes, "I'll go order."

"Wait," he quickly grabbed your wrist to stop you from standing, "I want to go and order. I want to try it."

"Are you sure?" You sat back down with a large smile, watching him gently. "Here's a ten pound note."

"Ten pound note ... alright. Will it be enough?"

"Yes."

"Will I get change?"

"Yes."

"Alright ... so two After Eight hot chocolates, a Victoria Sponge, and a Red Velvet cake."

"Correct, my darling." You said with a huge grin, staring at him proudly as he recited the order in his head continuously.

When he stood up and left you and headed to the till, you were left alone to stare at him. It almost felt like watching your child grow up; it was such a proud feeling to see someone do so well in something so new. Something they hated. Something they were so afraid of. But he was doing this - he was doing this for you. He was trying to include himself in your life, just as you'd included yourself in his. And yet, sitting alone was a dangerous idea for you in the current circumstance you were in. Despite feeling okay and happy throughout the day, the moment you fell alone, the voice of Bellatrix began to flood your mind, as the lifelessness of Sirius' eyes. Being alone in this place, without Draco, was like being left in a battlefield with no shield and no weapon. You became vulnerable and undeniably closer to death with the wretched thoughts. Seeing Draco only somewhat soothed you, to see him talk to a muggle like a human being, to see him so lost in this great big world.

"Perhaps you are my solace, after all," you whispered, gazing at Draco with a solemn expression. "Perhaps you are my hope."

When Draco came back, he sat down before you proudly as he handed you your change back. "I did it! Are you proud?" He grinned happily.

"I'm so proud," you smiled back. "After this, we shall go to the Gallery."

"We've spent the entire day in London," he exhaled, "and I loved every minute of it, you know. I'd love to spend some more time here."

"It is a great place."

"Hey," he paused, looking at you. His expression became very serious, slightly worried, as he continued to speak, "do you think that ... after Hogwarts, when you grow up, you'll return to the muggle world? Get a muggle job?"

"Hm," you paused, "it's a good question. I think ... I think I will. I want to fulfil the dreams I had when I was growing up. I still want to use my magic, I still want to live in the world of magic ... but I also want to be a part of this world. I want to mix them both together."

"Do you think," he bit his lip, "do you think you'll fall in love and marry a muggle?"

Slightly taken aback, you widened your eyes gently at his sudden question. It was indeed slightly hard to process it, for you never expected something so abrupt to come from Draco Malfoy. You opened your mouth to reply but, when you did, you could produce no voice. It was a good question. You'd never thought about it before. Only now, when Draco brought it up, did the thought became daunting as you realised that ... one day Draco would fall in love with someone, get himself a girlfriend, and you would have to ... set him free. It became obvious to you that, despite all of Draco's care, you were not his girlfriend, nor anyone that could possibly ever be one. After all, you are a Potter, he a Malfoy - it is simply a rewritten version of Romeo and Juliet, and one far more tragic and pitiable. You bit your lip, looking at him dismally.

"I don't know," you finally whispered out, turning away. "What about you ... do you think you'll fall in love and marry a witch?"

"Yes," he quickly said. "I'm certain of that."

"I see," you nodded.

A strong feeling of an unidentified emptiness overcame you when you realised ... that you and Draco were nothing more than friends who occasionally slept with each other. The shield that he provided you with, from Sirius' death, soon became a plague itself. His own presence began to remind you of an everlasting loneliness, and that Draco was not really all yours. He was not yours to cherish, not yours to care for, not yours to ... not yours to love.

That very day, when you had finished your food, you ended up going to the Gallery. You fought the desolate feelings and thoughts at all costs, not wishing to drown yourself in them. And, as the two of you roamed the halls, you held hands yet again. Only, the Gallery was not at all empty, with no crowd to get lost into. But you held hands, nevertheless. Every once in a while, Draco squeezed your hand, almost as though to reassure himself of your presence, of your small little hand within his.

He'd never felt more fulfilled and at peace when he watched you speak of the paintings. When you pointed to Diana and Callisto, by Titian and told Draco of Titian's retelling of Ovid's stories. Draco could speak of nothing, for he knew of very little, but he could listen, and that was the most beautiful thing he could do. He embraced every word of yours, sucked it in like it was his life provider. Your voice became his song, and your words became his meaning. His own body succumbed to you so wholly like you were his God and he your worshipper, and a mixture of a desolate and empty feeling grew within him, the more he listened. The more he listened, the more he understood and entered your mind, the further from it he seemed. Almost as though with every word you spoke, with every emotion, with every piece of knowledge you passed onto him, he faded into an unforgivable darkness. He began to truly realise the pain of one day having to rid himself of this voice, of this beauty.

"Van Dyke's portraits are quite admirable, aren't they?" You said, standing before the portrait of François Langlois.

"They're ... " He paused. He had no opinion of this painting. And yet, knowing your passion for it, he exhaled with a warm voice, "they're beautiful."

You thus smiled, turning to Draco. He, feeling your eyes on his, also turned to look at you, whereupon his eyes met yours. Both of you became overrun with an indescribable feeling of a yearning passion; you looked into each other's eyes, the gorgeous and historical paintings behind yourselves watching. And, in unison, the two of you fell into each other's lips, encompassing them entirely. His lips felt so soft against yours, kissing you gently and yet longingly, as though one day he would kiss these lips for the last time. You kissed him in such a similar manner, tangling your lips within his to feel his own soul reflecting through them. His hands held you by your waist, as yours were gently wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair.

And all that was left to be seen was the beautiful portrait of [F/n] Potter with her forehead against Draco Malfoy's, as the two gently smiled as they looked into each other's yearning eyes.