(Drarry) Faking My Own Death

A/N: 

Hi! Today (16th of April) marks the day I started writing this fic, exactly one year ago. I was working on my dissertation to graduate for my bachelor, and did it purely for fun. One day I wrote 10,000 words in about eight hours, getting lost in my hyperfixation all the while juggling the massive amounts of work for uni. Thus, I only started posting this work in the summer, I didn't want to put pressure on myself while finishing my degree. Still, I had about 40 chapters lined up at that point, so it was more about writing new chapters and editing the existing ones to post twice a week. Overall, this has been the biggest project I've ever done, because me and my ADHD never finish anything, unless it's short and sweet. Therefore, I wanted to make this story's one year anniversary special by posting some sneak peeks. 

As mentioned in the last chapter, I will continue posting soon with chapter 61, but I haven't finished it yet. So in the meantime, here are two sneak peeks for upcoming storylines/chapters. If you're confused about things in the sneak peeks, all will be revealed soon enough! 
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Sneak peek 1, in the near future (somewhere in the next five chapters, probably):

Harry and Draco stepped into the kitchen, where Molly had started on supper with help from her loving husband. After greeting them, Harry snuck into a cabinet to get something to eat. Draco stood leaning against one of the kitchen counters.

"So, Draco, how did it go?" Arthur asked.

"What?" Draco grew red, before realising Arthur was talking about his visit earlier that day. "Oh- It went well, but mainly because I asked the guards to muzzle my father. I don't need him to get into my head, nor does he deserve saying a word to me. This way, I could just say what I needed to say and leave."

Arthur nodded tentatively. "Good."

Molly shook her head. "I can't imagine how bad of a parent you must be for your child to say that. It serves him right he's in Azkaban, even if he wasn't part of You-Know-Who's army. I'm proud of you Draco."

Despite positive feedback having become a regular thing around Harry and the Weasleys, the comment still hit him like a sack of bricks. How was it possible the woman whose children he bullied and belittled for years so fully accepted him, when his own parents couldn't? His father had to be muzzled to get a word in, the only way the conversation would feel like a victory, and Molly Weasley shared her motherly love freely.

For the second time that day, Draco started crying. Perhaps it was because of all the heavy conversations that day, perhaps he was simply that happy, he didn't know.

"Oh dear, come here." Molly muttered, pulling him in for a hug. Arthur patted him on the back.

It felt somewhat alien, but he appreciated it, nevertheless.

From the other side of the kitchen, behind Molly, Harry observed the hug teary eyed, smiling. Draco met his eyes and smiled back helplessly. Harry mouthed something sweet and Draco felt his heart flutter.

How the fuck did he even get here? What did he do to deserve this? He felt full and heavy and weightless at the same time, buzzing as Molly let go of him.

"Harry, boy, what's wrong?" Molly asked, having noticed Harry's tears, "Why is everyone crying while I'm making supper, it can't be that bad!"

Harry chuckled, wiping away his tears and shaking his head. "I- I love you guys. Thanks for always making me feel like family, and thank you for extending that kindness to Draco."

Molly teared up too, walking over to give Harry a short hug and peck on the cheek. "We love you too, son."

Immediately after, she brushed off her apron and asserted: "Tsk. Get out of my kitchen you two, before I get emotional. And- leave the crisps, Harry. It won't be much longer."