Chapter Text
This has got to be…
“The most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen!”
Draco stared at the Daily Prophet with an expression that could only be described as pure agitation. And disgust. And literally every single negative emotion, because what the bloody, buggering, fuck —
“Draco, darling,” Pansy started, tugging the paper out of Draco’s hands, barely concealing her laughter. “Are you sure you aren’t just…jealous?”
“Jealous?!” Draco shrieked, head snapping up to meet the humor-filled eyes of his friend. “Me? Jealous? Of Potter , of all people? Pah! Absolutely ridiculous! To even suggest an idea—”
“We get it,” Blaise interjected dryly, picking up the Prophet and lazily flicking through it. His expression shifted into a smirk. “Ah. I see.”
Draco scowled. “Blaise, don’t—”
“Boy-Who-Lived officially declared war hero, receives 100,000 galleon prize from the Ministry . My, my, Draco, this is what you’re jealous over?”
“I’m not jealous!”
Pansy burst into laughter, a hand over her mouth as she cackled at Draco.
“I think it’s funny,” Pansy said after her laughter quelled. Draco rolled his eyes, scowling even harder.
“Funny? In what universe! How is Potter once again getting fame like the attention-seeking Gryffindor he is, funny ?!” Draco asked, fixing a glare on Pansy. She sighed in response.
“Draco, you don’t even need the money. Find something else to hate about him.”
“I second what she said,” Blaise added. “It’s a bit annoying.”
Draco shot out of his chair, now completely fuming. Fine! If his friends didn’t want to support him by listening to him ramble about how much he absolutely hated Potter, that was perfectly fine! He was just going to get up and walk away instead of dealing with these insufferable—
“OW! What the—”
“You are such a mess Draco. Hearing one thing about Potter seriously makes you unable to walk straight.”
Draco didn’t need to look at Blaise to hear his eye-roll.
“I dunno, it’s kinda amusing. How he’s so riled up he can’t walk a few steps without stubbing his toe.”
“Mm, yeah, you’re right.”
Draco didn’t grace his friends with a response, walking away, now mildly embarrassed and limping.
This was all Potter’s fault.
—
“Potter, I see you Potter. You can’t hide from me, no. I see your and your massive fucking — ”
“Cock?”
“ — ego, bloody Potter and his fame, he thinks he’s superior to everyone around him, the twat, fucking Potter and his bloody girl Weasley — ”
“He’s deranged.”
“I can already plan the next time I will display my superiority, I’ll corner him after Potions and make sure he can’t escape before I verbally humiliate him so severely he — ”
“Whoever talks next wants to kiss Potter.”
“Tell him I— WHAT!?”
Draco whipped around to face Blaise, jaw dropped. Blaise seemed to be trying to consume his eggs by staring at them intently.
“That answers a lot of questions,” Pansy chimed in, not even glancing at Draco as she spread marmalade on her toast. Draco scowled.
“No it doesn’t! I’d rather kiss a bloody hippogriff. Additionally, I have no interest in men. I am not…queer, as they say,” Draco sniffed, crossing his arms. Pansy stared at Draco for a beat before bursting into hysterical laughter. Blaise snorted.
“What? What? Explain to me how what I said was comical,” Draco demanded. “Am I just that funny? I always knew my humor was advanced, but this display of hysterics is quite undignified. Pansy, dearest, please acquire some manners.”
“Acquire some bloody subtlety,” Blaise remarked with an eye roll. How nonsensical. What did that even mean? Draco didn’t care to know. Bloody idiot, Blaise is. Draco is doing the world a service by being his friend.
Whatever. He wasn’t going to worry about whatever Blaise was harping about. Right now, he had a plan to put Potter in his place!
—
When Hogwarts students heard that there had been a replacement for their ex-Potion professor, they were admittedly relieved.
The history of Potion professors hadn’t exactly been pleasant, with Slughorn being blatant with his favoritism and Snape being harsh and unforgiving towards students. To put it simply, students were ready for a year of actual Potions learning.
Of course, that notion had been thrown out the window the moment they walked into the dungeon to see Snape’s bloody portrait propped on the teacher’s desk, a scowl set in place.
“In your seats! Now!”
The rest was history.
Well, not really. It’d only been so long since the start of eighth year.
Harry sighed as he entered the dungeons, trying (and failing) to ignore Snape’s malicious stare. Fuck, he hated potions so much. You’d think being bloody dead could stop Snape from tormenting Harry, but no, of course it can’t.
“Today, we’ll be doing revision on the Draught of Living Death,” Snape said, peering around the room. “I expect you to be able to make this potion by memory, and subsequently, I will not allow you to use your books for this potion.”
Harry internally groaned, staring blankly at his cauldron. Might as well give up now.
“Potter!” Snape barked, and Harry jumped, eyes flicking to the portrait next to him, which now had a scowling Snape. “Why aren’t you setting up your brewing station? Ten points from Gryffindor!”
What if, Harry thought dejectedly, as he reluctantly started setting up his station, I walked away from the portrait? I mean, it’s not like he can follow me if I go to a place without portraits.
As Harry was considering this possibly very stupid plan, a snicker rang from the other side of the room. Harry turned, scowl already set in place, at the culprit.
Malfoy. Of course, it was Malfoy.
“Something funny, Malfoy?” Harry asked sharply, ignoring Snape who moved into a portrait closer to him and started protesting at his comment. Malfoy turned to him, smirking.
“Just your incompetence at Potions, Potter,” he replied nonchalantly, eyes sparkling with malicious glee. Harry instantly felt his temper flare, scowling harder at the Slytherin. He gently shoved past Ron, stomping up to the Slytherin side of the room and right up to Malfoy. The entire class was silent.
“Maybe you should focus on your own potion, Malfoy ,” Harry snarled, poking him harshly in the center of his chest. Malfoy flushed, his smirk morphing into a scowl.
“And you should acquire some skills for Potions, Potter,” Malfoy retorted, shoving Harry’s hand out of the way and leaning forward to face Harry. Harry scowled, pushing Malfoy away.
“Maybe if you didn’t flick fucking pufferfish eyes at me every two seconds, I’d actually be able to focus on my work!” Harry said, crossing his arms. Malfoy didn’t even bother hiding his snicker.
“It’s not my fault you aren’t able to focus on your classwork,” Mafoy said casually, shrugging.
“It literally is!”
“You could just ignore me, really—”
“You try ignoring me when I flick fucking swelling solution at you, how about that?!”
“Are you threatening me, Potter!?”
“And if I am? What are you gonna do about it? Tattle to your mommy?”
“Fuck you, Potter! Don’t bring my mother into this!”
“Maybe you should stop annoying me in Potions then, you prat!”
“In your dreams, Potter!”
The class could do nothing but watch as the two snarled insults at each other, Draught of Living Death forgotten. Snape’s yells could be heard in the background, but nobody seemed to be paying attention to that. All they knew was that the Gryffindor Point hourglass was going to be a lot lighter than before.
From her brewing station, Hermione sighed.
—
Thump.
“...”
Thump.
“...’Mione? You hear that?”
“Yeah.”
Thump.
“...’Mione?”
“Yes?”
“What do you reckon that is?”
“Probably a house-elf.”
Thump.
Thump.
“Uh, Mione?”
“Yes?”
Thump.
“Is it just me or is it getting louder?”
“No, I hear it too.”
Thump.
“‘Mione?”
“Yes?”
“You don’t think it’s…”
“...Let’s hope not.”
THUMP!
“‘Mione?”
“Yes?”
“...It’s him isn’t it?”
“...Yes.”
“Bloody hell—”
Thump! Thump! THUMP!
Ron sighed, shutting his book, and put his head in his hands.
“Please don’t be about Malfoy, please don’t be about Malfoy, please — ”
The common room door flew open, the Fat Lady squealing in offense as the portrait hit the wall.
“How dare you disrespect—!”
But nobody was paying attention to the Fat Lady. Both pairs of eyes were trained on the person who just entered—a visibly seething Harry Potter.
“BLOODY MALFOY!”
Hermione heard Ron let out a groan.
“Harry, mate, please not today—”
“I’M TIRED OF HIM! I’M TIRED OF THE BLOODY FERRET!”
“Harry—”
“—I’M TIRED OF HIS FUCKING BLONDE HAIR—”
“What the bloody hell does his hair have to do with—”
“—HIS BLOODY GRAY EYES—”
“Mate what are you even talking about—”
“—HIS BLOODY SLYTHERIN ROBES, BLOODY FERRET LOOK ALIKE—”
Hermione shared a look of pure pain with Ron and Harry continued to ramble on about Malfoy, his insults (?) still oddly focused on Malfoy’s appearance.
“So,” Ron started, around a minute later as Harry continued to ramble. “How much longer do you think?”
“Mmm, maybe another ten,” Hermione hummed, propping her legs and flicking her book to the next page, ignoring the very loud yelling from next to her.
When a magical photo is taken, it can be narrowed down to several factors that determine the length, motion, and saturation. A magical photo can often be compared to a muggle “video.” However, one major difference between the two is that magical photos are self-defining. The way the moment's capture is determined is via heightened emotion in the current moment displayed. An example of this can be if a magical photo—
“—AND ALWAYS DURING POTIONS, THE BLOODY IDIOT WILL FLICK FUCKING PUFFERFISH EYES AT ME—”
—was taken of a couple kissing. The chances are it will capture the moments before and during, rather than after due to the emotion in the display—
“—THAT’S PROBABLY WHY PARKINSON DUMPED HIM AFTER THE YULE BALL, HE PROBABLY SUCKS AT KISSING—”
Bloody hell, they should kiss, Hermione thought abruptly. She stilled, looking up from her book, and glanced at Harry, who rambled, unaware of Hermione’s thoughts. She raised an eyebrow.
Wow, she thought, grinning and patting herself on the back, ignoring Ron’s blatant stare of confusion. I’m a bloody genius.
“Hey Ron—oh.”
Hermione glanced over to the staircase, watching as Neville stared in shock at the still-rambling Harry Potter. Ron sighed.
“Hi, Neville. Sorry about Harry, mate.”
“It’s all good,” Neville said, looking extremely cautious, as if Harry was about to start directing his anger toward him. Ron huffed, sounding exhausted.
“Harry’s in one of his Malfoy-tangents.”
Neville blinked.
“What the bloody hell is a Malfoy-tangent?”
Hermione hummed. “I’m honestly not too sure, Neville. I don’t think it’s a one time occurrence though.”
Ron audibly gulped.
—
Harry enjoyed his breakfast a lot, thank you very much.
In fact, if you asked Harry, everything was going swimmingly today.
He didn’t know what everyone else was talking about. What did they mean, Rita Skeeter wrote an article about him? Harry didn’t see anything. Harry wasis perfectly normal, thank you very much, and if you asked him, Rita Skeeter did not write an article about—
“Harry, why does the newest Rita Skeeter article say you’re gay?!” Ron exclaimed loudly, plopping onto the seat next to him. Harry slowly turned to face Ron, irritation written on his face. Ron winced at his expression.
“It’s obviously all drivel,” said Hermione’s voice from behind Harry. She sat next to him, grabbing a piece of toast and carefully spreading peanut butter onto it. “Unless it’s true? You know we’ll always support you.”
“No, it’s not true!” Harry stuttered, facing Hermione and looking at her with indignation. A low muttering from somewhere nearby in the Gryffindor table sounded. Harry scowled.
“I am not gay!” he said pointedly, looking around and facing several people who were clearly talking about the article.
“Calm down, Harry,” Hermione said, patting his shoulder. Harry turned to her, cooling down slightly at her sympathetic expression. Oddly enough, however, she had a slightly humorous twinkle in her eyes.
“Don’t tell me you find this funny?” Harry challenged, crossing his arms. Hermione shook her head.
“No…it’s something else,” she said, smiling cryptically. Harry shrugged, turning back to his eggs. Ron huffed from beside him.
“It’s mental how Rita Skeeter can write things like this!” he exclaimed. “I mean, imagine if you were gay and she outed you or something!”
Harry sighed. “Yes, that would be pretty bad if I was gay , which I am not.”
“I heard you once, mate,” Ron said, flashing him a grin. His face morphed back into a scowl. “I hate how she used you and Ginny falling out as proof though.”
Harry sighed, shrugging. He and Ginny didn’t work out after the War. Despite it being mutual, and them still being quite good friends, the media liked to twist it up quite a bit, especially into things like this.
“I guess it can’t be helped,” Harry said. “Skeeter really twists things around.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Ron replied, and Harry laughed.
“Hopefully the rumors dwindle down soon,” Harry said, surveying the Gryffindor table. There were still several Prophets out on the table, and multiple eyes on him, not even bothering to conceal the blatant gossip.
Ron chuckled. “Mate, I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.”
Harry sighed.
—
“Oi, Potter! I didn’t know you were—”
It was almost pathetic how instantaneously Harry saw red.
“Shut the fuck up Malfoy!” he yelled, whipping around and instantly making a beeline for Malfoy. “You probably wrote to Rita Skeeter, didn’t you? I’ll kill you, you fucking ferret !”
Malfoy’s face dropped comically fast. Parkinson and Zabini stepped out of the way with a cackle and a smirk. Harry ignored them, walking directly up to a now slightly scared-looking Malfoy and fisting his robes, shaking him.
“You little—”
“Let go of me, Potter! Stop grabbing my robes! You’ll wrinkle them! I iron-charmed them yesterday, something you’ve clearly never heard about—”
“Oh shut it , poncy git, nobody gives a flying fuck if you’ve ironed your bloody robes or not—”
“ You wouldn’t, would you, you undignified little—”
“Shut up Malfoy, before I turn you into a ferret again—”
“ Let go of me, if you don’t let go of me right now I will kick you—”
“Bloody try me Malfoy, you—”
Malfoy didn’t lie. Harry should’ve expected that. He also should have expected to lose his balance the moment Malfoy’s foot kicked his shin, falling down into the first thing in front of him.
Which just so happened to be Malfoy.
Harry yelped as he felt himself crash into Malfoy, letting out a soft breath as his head hit Malfoy’s shoulder surprisingly gently. His arms fell loosely around Malfoy’s figure, who let out a shaky breath from above him.
Harry was hugging him.
He was hugging Malfoy.
Click!
Harry instantly shoved himself off of Malfoy, face flaming red.
“You prick!” he immediately started, backing up and looking at Malfoy with pure anger. His face got redder as he saw the crowd gathered around them, no doubt witnesses of the hug. Someone even had a camera , which was no doubt the source of the click sound. He felt a flare of satisfaction to see that Malfoy was equally embarrassed, his face pink and scowling.
“Me? Me? If you weren’t such an imbecile, Potter, then I would have never had to resort to—”
“If you didn’t agitate me in the first place—”
“I barely got a bloody word out—”
“You were still going to—”
“But I didn’t, you attacked me unprovoked—”
“ Attacked?! I didn’t attack you, bloody dramatic—”
“I did nothing to you and you grabbed my robes—”
“You’re so bloody predictable I knew you were going to say something unintelligent, unoriginal, and unfunny anyway—”
“I am none of those things! I have a refined humor, and am an extremely smart—”
“Yeah, and I’m not Harry Potter, you bloody pillock—”
“Harry!”
Harry whipped around, spotting Hermione in the crowd. She actually looked like she was on the brink of bursting out laughing. His own friend! Harry felt a sting of betrayal.
With one last glare at Malfoy, Harry weaved through the crowd to meet Hermione, who stared at him, expression unamused but humor in her eyes.
“Come on,” she said, taking his arm and dragging him away. “No need to make the scene worse.”
“Oh, and you were enjoying the show were you?” Harry snapped. “I can see you’re trying not to laugh.”
Hermione huffed, dissolving into giggles as she let Harry’s arm go. “You have to admit, it was pretty funny…Harry, you hugged Malfoy.”
Harry’s face immediately exploded with heat. He scowled. “You don’t need to remind me!”
“So, how was that?”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “What, hugging Malfoy? Awful , obviously.”
“How come?”
“W-What do you mean, how come?!” Harry stuttered. “It’s Malfoy! ”
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean he’s bad at hugging.”
“Of course it would! He’s a poncy git!”
Hermione shrugged. “Yes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the hug would be an unpleasant experience.”
Harry decided not to respond, turning away from Hermione. His face burned with mortification. He hugged Malfoy. This is awful. It wasn’t even a bad hug. But it’s Malfoy!
Wait, no, it was a bad hug, Harry reasoned with himself. Of course, it was! It’s Malfoy. He’s bad at everything…but at the same time, it’s hard to be bad at hugging. I mean, it’s hugging! Objectively, the hug wasn’t that bad. I mean, he didn’t really do much but just stand there for a second, so I suppose it was like a regular hug — no, what am I doing!? Why am I thinking about how hugging Malfoy felt!? Stop it. Stop it.
“Wanna go to the library to review?!” Harry asked Hermione abruptly, and probably too enthusiastically to be not suspicious.
“Sure,” Hermione responded. She raised an eyebrow, her gaze knowing. “Whatever helps you.”
Harry didn’t even bother trying to dissect that statement.
—
Moonstone properties. Moonstone properties. Hugging Malfoy —
Harry scowled at the book harder. Hermione bit her cheek, visibly holding back laughter whenever her eyes flitted to him. Harry ignored her.
Moonstone properties. The uses of moonstone in venom cures. Falling against Malfoy’s shoulder —
“Why can’t I focus!?” Harry burst out, groaning as he put his head in his hands. “Malfoy cursed me! He cursed me when I hugged—fell onto him.”
Harry heard Hermione snicker. “Maybe you can’t just stop thinking about it.”
Harry frowned, looking up at Hermione. “And why would that be? I hate the poncy prat!”
“Maybe you can’t accept the fact that it wasn’t a bad hug, and you’re beating yourself up over it,” Hermione answered simply, shrugging. Harry opened his mouth, a protest already on the tip of his tongue, but Hermione held up a hand.
“No, listen. I think it makes sense that you can’t stop thinking about it because of the situation. You hugged your…nemesis in front of a crowd, and since you’re so used to thinking he does everything badly, the hug not being a horrible one—where you two instantly started punching and fighting each other after—is jarring for you. Just accept that it wasn’t a bad hug. It’ll help you stop thinking about it.”
Harry sat for a moment, processing what Hermione just said. He supposed…it did make sense. If you had told Harry when he woke up today that he would hug Malfoy, he probably would’ve hexed you in disbelief. So since it was so unexpected, he couldn’t stop thinking about it! And Harry guessed…it wasn’t that bad of a hug. Mostly because Malfoy wasn’t doing anything.
Harry sighed. “I guess that makes sense…”
Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
“And…it really wasn’t that bad of a hug,” Harry said extremely grudgingly, averting his eyes from Hermione, his face flaming. Why was his face red? This was perfectly fine!
He turned back to Hermione, who had a light smile on her face and a slightly mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“Hey ‘Mione?”
“Yes?”
“There’s nothing else to it, right? Making me accept that it wasn’t a bad hug? Like…no other reasons?”
“Of course not, Harry. Why would there be?”
“Right…yeah.”
—
Considering Harry is her friend, this should not be hilarious.
Hermione couldn’t help but let out a laugh as she saw the title of the Daily Prophet on a table in the library, a second later smothering her laughter and schooling her expression. It was early Saturday morning, so chances are the story hadn’t spread too far yet. Harry was sleeping in, and Hermione was sure he was blissfully unaware.
“Never took you for one to laugh at your friend’s definite future misery, Granger,” said a voice from behind her. Hermione raised her eyebrows. If she wasn’t wrong, that was…
“Parkinson,” she said neutrally, a cordial smile on her face. To Hermione’s shock, Parkinson didn’t look malicious, sporting a playful smirk. “I could say the same. You don’t seem to be upset on your friend's behalf of this title. Unless he’s the one behind it?”
Parkinson's smirk turned into a grin, and she laughed loudly. “Oh, Draco. The dramatic prat will throw a fit over this, I assure you. I will be laughing the entire time.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Parkinson seemed smart. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to assume…
“But he wouldn’t be upset about it, would he?”
Parkinson stopped laughing, eyebrows raised as she looked at Hermione with something like mild surprise and admiration.
“No, of course not,” she said, smirking. “And on your end?”
Hermione grinned. “Perhaps on the surface Harry would be. However, he’d be…thinking about it. A lot. As he did about the other incident.”
“Oh?” Parkinson said, raising an eyebrow and smirking, looking cruelly amused in the way only Slytherins can. “Truthfully, I’m waiting for the day they get so riled up they start snogging.”
Hermione let out a choked laugh at that. “Forward.”
Parkinson grinned. “Indeed. I’ll be doing work behind the scenes, of course. It’s not that hard to tell people that what the Prophet says is true. Do help, would you Granger? The day that Draco stops pretending he doesn’t want to shag Harry Potter is the day of freedom and bliss for me.”
Hermione smiled, huffing in disbelief. Slytherins , the lot of them.
“I’ll do what I can then. I am equally as tired of Harry rambling about Malfoy, his remarks being on his appearance more often than not. Did you know, he goes on these ‘Malfoy-tangents’?” Hermione said, watching with a smile as Parkinson huffed at the name. “They last fifteen minutes, minimum, and he’s unresponsive to anything else. You know, he may be a bit obsessed with him.”
Parkinson tilted her head. “Oh? Whatever could have given you that impression?”
Hermione shrugged, a small smirk on her face, memories of sixth-year flooding her brain.
“No idea.”
—
“Mate. Mate, you need to see this.”
Harry rolled his eyes at Ron’s tone of voice. “Let me guess, I’m the next evil dark lord?”
“No, er, Harry…this one might be worse.”
Harry raised his eyebrows, turning to face Ron from where he was sitting in the Great Hall. Admittedly, the looks he had been getting were far more odd, despite him being out for only a few minutes. Hermione was suspiciously absent.
“Worse? What could possibly be worse than yesterday's? Do I even want to know?”
Ron’s eyes flitted from the paper to him, then right back. “Er, you know what, mate? Maybe just…look at it later,” he said nervously. Harry gulped.
What could possibly —
“Oi, Potter, how’s your boyfriend doing?”
Harry froze for a moment, processing the comment he just heard before whipping around to try and spot the culprit. It seemed to have been a Ravenclaw fourth-year, who was now walking away and sneering at him.
“ What?” Harry breathed, more confused now than anything. “My boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend!”
Ron sat stock still. Harry blinked harshly.
“Ron. Ron. What does the Daily Prophet say?”
“Harry, why don’t you worry about that, er, later?”
“ Ron. ”
With extreme trepidation, Ron handed over his copy of the Daily Prophet . The moment Harry read the title, he wished he decided to have breakfast by the Astronomy Tower so he could pitch himself off of it.
CHOSEN ONE'S LOVE INTEREST REVEALS ITSELF AS EX-DEATH EATER DRACO MALFOY
Rita Skeeter
With the recent revelation of Harry Potter’s sexuality, people have been avidly speculating on the Chosen One’s love interest. Now, Hogwarts students have reported a new closeness in Harry Potter’s relationship with none other than ex-Death Eater and Slytherin eighth-year Draco Malfoy.
According to multiple Hogwarts students, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have had a colorful rivalry in their earlier Hogwarts school years. However, recently, their relationship seems to have taken a turn.
“Clearly, they’ve had an understanding of some sort,” reported an anonymous Hogwarts student. “The way they act, and the way they banter…it’s clear that there were some repressed feelings.”
While there have been no reported male lovers of Harry Potter in the past, students seem to not be surprised at the recent development in their relationship.
“I didn’t even know they were dating, but I’m honestly not even surprised,” said an anonymous Hogwarts student. “In no universe was their banter ever straight, even in earlier years. Malfoy made bloody buttons in fourth-year, and put significant effort into charming them just for Potter. Literally who does that? Definitely not heterosexual ‘rivals’.”
While the news of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy’s blooming relationship is new, witches and wizards all around are curious to see how they progress.
And on the front cover lay a massive photo of none other than Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Hugging.