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The Bucket List

Chapter Text

Five months later


The Prophet is glad to report that Harry Potter is now in a serious relationship with none other than Draco Malfoy, divinely handsome Slytherin playboy and ex-Death Eater. In an exclusive interview with me, Millicent Bulstrode, Potter explained that he and the ravishingly good looking Slytherin plan on travelling the world together.

“I’ve sort of never taken a break,” said Potter, staring besottedly at his handsome new boyfriend, “and Draco just recovered from a near-fatal illness. We both want to see the world.” 

The Prophet notes that Slytherins are generally a good looking group. It’s not just Draco Malfoy. 

When asked how he felt about his gorgeous blond lover’s Death Eater past, Potter was definite:

“Draco has proven over and over that he has changed. He is brilliant, kind and determined. I know he deeply regrets his actions in the war and beyond. All of my friends approve of the relationship.”

“No one is ever going to forgive me and this is all a waste of time,” said the smoulderingly sexy Slytherin. Here at The Prophet, however, we feel that Harry Potter’s judgment can be trusted. 

“How come she never says anything about me being hot?” asked Harry in outrage.

“Did you bribe her?” asked Draco.

“You bribed her?”

“You’re so darling when you’re cross. Come here.”

Draco really was horribly good looking, thought Harry, as he let himself be folded up into Draco’s arms. Draco was almost completely better now, although he still claimed to be more tired than before. Harry dreaded to think how much energy he would have when he was better, if this was Draco tired. Draco went running every morning and swimming every night. He ate everything he could get his hands on. He went kayaking with Jack in Cornwall on weekends. He volunteered at the homeless shelter and had what Harry could only describe as therapy sessions with Seven. His body had become lean and muscular, strong and precise. His hair had grown lustrous and thick. The wounds on his chest had closed over, although Draco said they still ached when it got damp. He’s confident, thought Harry, and vibrant, and mine



Draco didn’t panic very often anymore. The last time had been when Harry got his wand out and pointed it at him unexpectedly when they were having a heated discussion about artistic merit in Soviet Russia. (At least, that was what Draco had been arguing about. Harry had been arguing that Draco needed to come in from the cold—they had been in Lapland at the time, watching the Northern Lights.) Draco had a medium-sized panic, but it transpired that Harry had only cast a warming charm on him.

“You were shivering,” said Harry desperately, as he apologised. “I’m sorry— you were cold—”

That night, swaddled in fur and lying on blocks of ice (#48. Stay in an ice hotel), Draco rested his nose against Harry’s.

“I used to think you wanted to kill me,” he said. “In sixth year. I thought, I probably deserved it.”

Harry kissed him.

“Darling,” he said.

“I don’t want to be boring,” said Draco.

“Please,” said Harry. “Be boring.”

“It never occurred to me that you might love me.”

It was dark, and under the fur their bodies were warm.

“It didn’t occur to me, either,” said Harry. “But I do. I love you so much, Draco.”

“How much?”


Draco nodded.

“I suppose you know how I feel,” he said.

“I do,” said Harry shyly, “but… sometimes…it’s nice to hear…”

“I love you, Harry.” Draco heard Harry breath in sharply. They both said it so rarely. “Loads, as you so poetically put it.”

Harry ran his hands up and down Draco’s sides.

“Good,” he said. “Let’s keep doing this, then.”

“Ice hotels?”

This. Let’s keep dating.”

“I wasn’t aware that was up for review,” said Draco.

“Don’t be a Slytherin for one second,” said Harry.

“Okay,” whispered Draco.

“I want to keep you,” said Harry.

“I want to keep you,” said Draco.

“I mean for a long time.”


“A really long time,” clarified Harry, as if Draco hadn’t understood. 

“Harry. This isn’t a one-sided thing. We’re both equally embarrassing about each other.”

Harry sighed happily and wormed his way even closer to Draco under the covers. 

“I love you,” he said.

“This has gone far enough,” said Draco sternly. 

“I love how funny you are.”

“Stop this nonsense.”

“I love your sense of adventure.”

“One more word out of you, and I’ll shut you up the only way I know how.” 

There was a quizzical silence.

“With my dick, Harry.”

“Oh! Well, in that case… your good humour throughout your illness made me respect—”

Then Draco shut him up, the only way he knew how.


Harry said Draco still behaved as if he would die in three months. It was their biggest recurring argument. Harry was reckless himself, but he thought Draco went too far; for instance, when Draco wanted to go rock climbing in the Andes without rope or a harness.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” asked Draco.

“You could die!”

“Oh, that,” said Draco. “Should have happened ages ago. This is just the encore.”

That had caused their biggest argument yet. Eventually Draco had conceded. He wore the harness when he went climbing. 


“So first you boil the water,” said Harry.

“What about the salt?”

“You don’t need salt.”

“Italians use salt,” said Draco. “I’m quite sure salt is an integral part of the process.”

“I’ve always boiled water just fine without salt.”

“If I wanted to learn how to make subpar boiled eggs, I would have done so by now,” said Draco. Harry rolled his eyes. He was so adorable when he was pissed off. Had he always been adorable when he was pissed off? Was that why Draco had antagonised him so much in school? But no— he used to be terrifying. Draco remembered the panic attacks.

“Forget about the salt!” said Harry. “Look. Then you just put in the eggs…”

“What if I would like to make one soft boiled egg and one hard boiled egg?”

“Then you just take one egg out sooner.”

“What about altitude?”

“What about altitude?” asked Harry in a strained voice.

“Altitude changes the length of time you boil the eggs for,” said Draco.

“Why are you making this so complicated?”

Draco drew himself up.

I’m not making anything complicated. It is you who are underestimating the ancient art of egg-boiling.”

“Draco, come on. I don’t want us to miss sunset on the Grand Canyon because we’re bickering over fucking eggs.”

“I don’t think either of us should fuck the eggs, Harry. I must stand firm upon that point.”

“I’ll fuck you soon if you’re not careful,” said Harry.

They did not see sunset on the Grand Canyon that night. But that was okay, because they could do it the next day. 

There was a lot of time.

Five Years Later


SPOTTED: Loved up Lamorak Toujours and his longtime partner, Harold Poitiers! The mysteriously private couple were seen at Luna Lovegood’s Charity Fundraiser, looking more in love than ever. Rumours persist that the attractive pair are none other than celebrated healer Draco Malfoy and Hogwarts Professor of Defence Against The Dark Arts Harry Potter in disguise— but both Lamorak and Harold refused to comment for Witch Weekly.

Luna and Lamorak’s Charity Events continue to raise millions of galleons for war-relief charities. For more pictures of last night’s event, turn to page 17.