Chapter 1: Chapter One
Summary:
A new Prophet article causes stir among Hogwarts.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
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.
Notes:
wow!! publicity! what could go wrong....
Chapter 2: Chapter Two
Summary:
Harry makes a revelation.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“In no universe would I ever date Malfoy.”
“Mhm, whatever you say.”
Harry turned to Hermione, scowling. “Why do you sound disbelieving?”
Hermione raised an eyebrow from where she was currently reading her book, feet propped up on the armrest. “Do I?”
“Yes, you do!” Harry said hotly. “For some reason, nobody believes me!”
Hermione’s lips twitched. Harry scowled deeper. “Even you for some reason!”
Hermione rolled her eyes, planted her feet on the ground, and faced Harry fully. “Do I? Or have you somehow convinced yourself of that?”
Harry huffed. “Well, it’s your…er, tone of voice.”
“My tone…of voice,” Hermione repeated, staring at Harry blankly. “My completely neutral tone of voice.”
Harry sighed. “Maybe I’m just upset with the situation. I mean, how would you feel if the papers announced you were…I dunno, dating Parkinson?”
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“I mean, think about it!” Harry insisted as he reached out to take a sip of water. Hermione hummed.
“That wouldn’t be too bad. I mean, she’s pretty hot.”
Harry spit out his water.
“Who’s hot?”
Harry whipped around to see Ron at the common room door, looking appropriately dumbstruck.
“Your mom.”
Both boys’s heads whipped to Hermione.
“WHAT?!” Ron exclaimed, looking rather horrified.
“What?” Hermione responded, raising an eyebrow in inquiry, looking as if she genuinely had no idea what happened.
“You know what…I’m not going to question it,” Harry said, turning back to Ron. “Ron, I’d never date Malfoy.”
Ron’s eyes flicked to Harry, and he nodded in agreement. “Of course not! The papers are lying, mate!”
Harry turned to Hermione. “See? Ron knows me best!”
Ron tilted his head in confusion. “Does she not believe you?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry thinks that I don’t, even though in reality I just don’t want to listen to him ramble about how much he definitely wouldn't date Malfoy.’
Harry scowled. “I wouldn’t! There isn’t even anything good—!” Harry paused for a moment. Well…objectively…
“Mate?” Ron prompted after a few seconds of silence, startling Harry out of his thoughts.
Harry huffed. “It’s a bit unfair, you know?”
“Unfair?”
“He’s such a poncy git. Why does he have to be so bloody fit?”
Ron’s expression instantly dropped. He turned to Harry, mouth agape and looking aghast.
“Haha! Er, good joke!” Ron said, looking heavily uncomfortable. Harry turned to Ron, a confused expression on his face.
“What joke?” he said, completely unaware of how he just shattered Ron’s entire world.
Behind her book, Hermione’s shoulders shook from laughter and she hid a smile.
—
“So…about the Prophet —”
“No, no, no. ”
Draco covered his ears and faced away from Blaise. “Shut up, shut up, shut—”
“Draco!”
Draco winced from Pansy’s voice, turning around to face her from where she stood in the Slytherin common room doorway. She had a severe expression on her face, and honestly looked a bit scary.
“Yes, Pansy?”
Pansy marched up to where Draco and Blaise were sitting and plopped herself directly next to him. She turns to face him, her expression not wavering in the slightest.
“Is this about the Prophet ?” Draco approaches cautiously, eyes narrowing. Pansy rolls her eyes.
“Is this about the Prophet, he asks— Draco, obviously it’s about the Prophet!”
“Hmph. Then I don’t wish to talk about it,” Draco sniffed primly, turning away from Pansy. Not a second later, Pansy grabbed his ear forcefully and forced him to face her.
“OW! Pansy, what the—”
“So, what did you think of it?” Pansy asked rather calmly, a massive shift to her previous tone. Draco rubbed his ear bitterly.
“Complete and utter nonsense,” Draco gritted out. And it was! Rita Skeeter didn’t know what she was talking about— you’d think she’d at least support Draco a bit after all the news he gave her in fourth-year!
“What about the quotes?” Pansy asked, a ghost of a smirk now on her face. Draco scowled.
“Those anonymous students have no idea what they’re talking about!” Draco shouted. Pansy’s smirk got wider.
“You have to admit though, you did put a lot of effort into those buttons.”
“I—Not that much!” Draco sputtered. Why was Pansy asking him all of this?!
“Mm, I don’t know,” Pansy said, raising an eyebrow. She looked past Draco directly at Blaise. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Blaise, but didn’t he spend…four hours in the library researching how to charm the badges?”
Blaise looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging, a small smirk on his face. “I thought it was five actually.”
Draco’s jaw dropped. “WHAT!? I distinctly recall, it was only around an hour—”
“It was definitely not an hour. I had to sit through all of it. You were ranting about Potter and how much of an attention-seeking prick he was the entire time.”
Draco huffed. “He is! He probably asked Skeeter to write all the articles about him and put on a sad act for the attention—”
“So, does that include this one?” Blaise asked. Draco turned to him, scowling.
“Obviously not!”
“Well, how do you know that?” Pansy said, raising an eyebrow. “He could’ve, for all we know.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “And why would he do that? He would be embarrassing himself as much as me!”
“You realize that’s the case with every other article, right?”
“Shut up, Blaise. Anyway, this article must just be Skeeter! I doubt—”
“Maybe,” Pansy started, a mischievous glint to her eye. “It’s his way of confessing.”
“Confessing?!” Draco shrieked, his face instantly beet red. “In what universe —”
“This one, maybe?” Blaise said, snickering lightly. Pansy grinned. Draco scowled harder.
“No! No! It’s nothing of the sort!”
Pansy sighed, turning to face Draco. “What if it was? Supposedly.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t be surprised. I am an extremely likable individual that—”
“Okay, and your response?” Pansy interrupted, raising an eyebrow. Draco flushed. Potter? Liking him? Hah! As if! However…
I guess associating with the Chosen One wouldn’t be a bad idea, Draco mused. I mean, it’d give me benefits, right? Even if he is an insufferable prick? And…he’s not bad looking either, for a guy, I suppose. And he is quite endearing — wait…what am I saying?! No! I’m the Malfoy heir, even considering Potter is off-limits! Why am I even thinking about this?
Draco flushed, heat flooding his face. “My response would obviously be a rejection!”
Pansy smirked. “Your face is a little red, Draco.”
Blaise grinned. “A little? He’s probably thinking about making out with P—”
“NO!” Draco shrieked. “NO, I’M NOT!”
Pansy raised an eyebrow. “You’re getting a bit defensive, Draco. You sure you don’t have anything to tell us? Maybe take a couple steps out the closet?”
“Closet?! No! I’m not gay!” Draco countered, crossing his arms. “I don’t understand why you two are so convinced—”
“Buttons, Draco,” Blaise deadpanned. “Buttons.”
“They were to make him angry!” Draco gritted out. “Nothing more!”
“Yeah, probably because you like seeing him all worked up and—”
“NO!” Draco yelled, covering his arms and shaking his head. “I’D NEVER BE INTERESTED IN POTTER! HE’S AN ANNOYING GRYFFINDOR IDIOT WITH HIS STUPID HAIR AND HIS STUPID GREEN EYES! THE ONLY MODERATELY GOOD THING ABOUT HIM IS THAT HE’S DEFEATED THE DARK LORD AND HE’S GOOD LOOKING AND THAT’S ALL—”
Wait.
WHAT IN MERLIN’S NAME AM I SAYING?!
Pansy cackled as Draco self-reflected in utter dismay.
“Checkmate, Draco. Checkmate.”
—
Okay so Draco may be a little bit gay. But that doesn’t mean he likes Potter. Fuck Potter.
“Yeah Draco, fuck him,” Blaise said when Draco relayed this to him the next day. Draco grinned proudly.
“Finally! Someone gets it. I’d never even consider Potter—”
“No Draco. I meant fuck him. Literally.”
Draco then decided to leave the common room, because for some reason this eighth-year named Blaise Zabini was body-bound and on the floor. How odd!
“So, you’ve finally admitted it?” Pansy said, raising an eyebrow, when Draco told his revelation to her.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Draco huffed. “I see how I may have been slightly blindsighted. Like that one time I kept asking you how kissing a bloke was. And that one time I kept talking about that one Ravenclaw sixth-year in fourth-year. And that one time— well, I suppose there were a few instances that I should have realized was a result of being queer.”
“A few instances?” Pansy deadpanned. “Yeah, a few fucking hundred.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “There weren’t that many.”
“Whatever you say,” Pansy said dryly. “Anyway, what exactly made it click in your head that you were queer? Was it a certain…person, perhaps?”
Draco scowled. “It wasn’t Potter! It was simply me realizing I…appreciated his looks, and nothing else!”
“So it quite literally was Potter.”
“Shut up.”
—
“Mr. Potter, please see me after class.”
Harry groaned internally as Professor McGonagall’s voice rang out in the classroom, her no-nonsense tone making Harry feel even more nervous.
Harry gave a wan smile at Ron’s sympathetic look as he stepped out of the classroom. He really hoped that whatever it was, it wasn’t too serious. It was always slightly hard to tell with Professor McGonagall. He took a deep breath and turned around, walking up to Professor McGonagall’s desk and sitting down.
“Yes, Professor?” he asked, resisting the urge to cringe at the obvious nerves in his voice. Professor McGonagall intertwined her fingers and fixed a severe stare on him. Harry gulped.
“Mr. Potter, I’d like to talk about the most recent Daily Prophet article,” Professor McGonagall said, seemingly ignoring Harry’s groan of discomfort.
“Professor, I swear—”
“I hope,” Professor McGonagall interrupted, “that your recent development with Mr. Malfoy will not be a distraction in class. It seems you two, even before this, were already preoccupied enough by each other's presence.”
Harry’s flushed. “N-Nothing like that, Professor,” he stuttered. “The Prophet , well, er, it’s not true.”
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then whatever is the context of the image?”
Harry’s face reddened. “Er, I tripped.”
“You…tripped.”
“Erm, yeah.”
“I see,” Professor McGonagall said simply, a glint of an emotion Harry couldn’t recognize in her eyes. “Thank you for informing me that the information in the article was false. I would not be able to tell otherwise, after all.”
Harry gaped for a moment before schooling himself.
“I—Professor, I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Professor McGonagall tilted her head. “You wouldn’t, would you, Mr. Potter?”
Harry blinked. “Er—”
“Well then, please make your way to your next class. I doubt Severus would be too thrilled if you were late.”
—
“So, what was that about?”
“She just talked about the article.”
“Not the Prophet article?!”
“Unfortunately it was. I told her it wasn't true and she said…she wouldn’t be able to tell otherwise if I didn’t inform her as such. For some reason.”
“For some reason, he says —”
“Shut up Hermione.”
—
“Mr. Potter.”
Harry froze, feeling dread trickle down his spine. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid, but of course , Snape would wait until the end of class to think Harry would get off scot-free. He didn’t even give Harry the liberty of calling him out when the class was empty!
Most students had paused in their packing, looking at either Snape or Harry in interest. Malfoy had left the room and was nowhere in sight.
“Yes, sir?” Harry asked, trepidation evident in his voice.
“Twenty points from Gryffindor for inflicting a bad reputation on other students,” Snape said, not even bothering to mask the disdain in his voice. Harry’s jaw dropped.
“Wha—Sir, that’s completely unfair!” Harry protested. Snape scowled from his portrait.
“And do you think you have the authority to decide what is fair or not, Mr. Potter?” Snape said, sneering. Harry glowered at him, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
He stormed out of the room in fury, a scowl on his face. Who did Snape think he was, taking points off just because of that blasted article?! Harry was absolutely ready to head to the common room and bask in his anger for the rest of the day.
Until he came across the cause of it, of course.
Harry glowered harder at the sight of Malfoy, looking annoyingly unbothered, in an almost-empty corridor. As if his emotions were controlling him, he felt himself move closer to where Malfoy was.
After all, it was only fair that Malfoy received his fair share of trouble.
—
“ You. ”
Draco instantly recognized Potter’s voice, which was husky and riddled with pure anger. He turned to face Potter, who was staring at him with bright green eyes. Draco flushed, heat prickling under his skin.
From fury, obviously.
“Me,” Draco responded simply, raising an eyebrow, already preparing for the explosive argument upcoming. A low muttering emanated from the few students sitting around them. Really, why’d Potter always choose to have these arguments in public?
“You did this,” Potter declared like the fucking idiot he was, walking right up to Draco, who sneered at him.
“I did nothing of the sort,” Draco argued, crossing his arms. Potter scowled.
“Like hell you didn’t! This is exactly the kind of thing you’d do!” Potter exclaimed. “Unless you’re forgetting fourth-year?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Draco countered. “I’d never spread this around! You think I want to be associated with you?”
“Yeah, well who knows what goes on in your head? I personally thought there wasn’t much of anything in there—”
“Oh how mature , Potter, really—”
“Like you’re one to talk about maturity!” Potter yelled. “Aren’t you the one that made those stupid buttons in fourth-year?”
“You have to admit though, you did put a lot of effort into those buttons.”
Draco flushed at the memory. Pah! Blaise and Pansy didn’t know what they were talking about! He scowled harder at Potter. “That was years ago! At least I’m not spreading rumors that we’re dating —”
“Shut up , Malfoy! I’ve never done anything of the sort!” Potter said, fisting his robes. The crowd, which had slowly been getting larger as their argument got louder, let out a collective gasp. Draco’s stomach twisted.
…In anger, and nothing else.
“ You shut up! This is all your fault!”
“How is it my —”
“Aww! They’re in a lover’s quarrel!” a Ravenclaw third-year exclaimed from the crowd. Potter’s face burned from mortification.
“No!” Potter said, immediately dropping Draco’s robes. “No, we aren’t even—”
“If only you just shut up, Potter, maybe this would’ve never—”
“Me?!” Potter practically shrieked, cutting Draco off. “Oh fuck you, Malfoy—”
“No, fuck you , Potter—”
“Is this foreplay?” a Slytherin seventh-year nearby deadpanned. Potter’s face got impossibly redder.
“No! No, it’s not! I’m not gay—”
“I’d never date this prat—”
“Aww! They’re trying to keep their relationship a secret!”
“NO! No, we aren’t dating! I’d never date him!”
“Guys, it’s okay! You can make up your lover’s quarrel with a kiss!”
“NO! NO!”
—
Hermione, Harry thought desperately, as Malfoy turned to yell at the crowd. Save me.
Hermione did not, in fact, save Harry.
After a few seconds, it quickly became apparent to Malfoy that shouting at the crowd was getting little done. He let out a frustrated yell and turned toward Harry, whose stomach did a little flip from his fury-filled expression. He stalked right up to Harry and grabbed his arm, dragging him away, ignoring Harry’s sputtering.
“What are you doing?!” Harry yelled, trying and failing to pull his arm from Malfoy’s grasp.
“Shut up. We need to talk, now ,” Malfoy said, his voice downright dangerous . Harry’s stomach twisted. From anger. Obviously.
A few moments later, Harry found himself pushed into an empty classroom, Malfoy following from right behind him. The door slammed shut and Malfoy turned to him, shoving him against the nearest wall.
“Hey! What are you doing!?” Harry yelled indignantly, scowling at Malfoy. Malfoy didn’t seem phased, walking right up to Harry and looking down at him, his face pink. From frustration. Unmistakably.
“What I want to know,” he started, voice low, “Is why you keep having these arguments in public, Potter .”
“I-It’s not a conscious decision!” Harry sputtered. For some odd reason, he found it incredibly hard to focus on the argument they were having right now.
Malfoy scowled. “So you’re telling me every argument just happens to be in public? For Merlin’s sake, that’s the reason these bloody articles are being written!”
“I-I, well, the articles aren’t my fault!” Harry said hotly, crossing his arms.
“Aren’t your fault?! If you didn’t keep on arguing with me in front of other people, that blasted article would have never been written! I get that you’re an attention seeker, Potter, but—”
“Excuse me?!” Harry yelled, temper now steadily rising. “You think I asked Skeeter to write those stupid articles about me on purpose?!”
Malfoy scoffed. “What else, if that?”
“What else?!” Harry sputtered. “I don’t like the attention! I don’t like rumors being spread about me! I just want to live my life! What even gave you that impression?!”
Malfoy’s expression shifted, fury melting away into consideration. He was peering at Harry with a contemplative expression—as if Harry was a puzzle he couldn’t deduce. Eventually, he rolled his eyes.
“Be that as it may, Potter, but it doesn’t change the fact that if you didn’t blow up at me that day this article wouldn’t be spreading these unsavory rumors about me!”
Harry glared at Malfoy. “About you?! About me ! You think I want to be associated with you?”
Malfoy scowled at Harry, moving forward right into Harry’s space. “And you think I want to be associated with you, do you, Potter?!”
Harry couldn’t respond. His gaze was caught on Malfoy’s grey eyes, his dark pupils dilated. A moment later, the fury melted away, leaving an astonished expression on Malfoy’s face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
They were really close.
Like, really close.
Malfoy abruptly pulled back, face flaming as he cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Well,” he started, voice neutral, a massive contrast to his previous tone, “I’ll just—”
He quickly went to the door, opened it, and dashed out without another word, leaving Harry standing in the classroom alone.
What the fuck?
—
“There you are Harry!” Hermione exclaimed as Harry walked into the common room. “Where were you?”
“Er, I was in the library,” Harry said, dutifully avoiding Hermione’s eyes. She raised an eyebrow.
“No you weren’t. I saw Malfoy drag you away during your argument. Unless you two went to the library to have a little study date—”
“DATE?!”
“—then you are most definitely not telling the truth, Harry.”
Harry huffed. “Okay, fine. He forced me to go into an empty classroom to—”
“To make out?”
“NO! NO! TO TALK!” Harry screeched, face aflame at the mere thought. Hermione smirked.
“Whatever you say. Go on, then?”
Harry huffed, clearing his throat.“Yeah, and then we argued. He said I was behind the article because I was supposedly an attention seeker. I denied it, and I think he…accepted that? I’m not too sure, honestly. He said the article was still my fault because I kept picking arguments in public.”
“Do you think the article’s your fault?”
“No!” Harry denied, crossing his arms. “It most definitely wasn’t!”
“Okay…what happened after?”
Harry flushed. “Well, er, he—”
“You guys made out?”
“NO WE DIDN’T MAKE OUT!”
Hermione sighed, a small smile on her face. “Merlin, it’s so easy to tease you. Why’re you red, then? Did you guys fu—”
“STOP! NO! THE ARGUMENT JUST GOT HEATED—”
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“NOT LIKE THAT! He just, er, got rather close to me, and er…I was against the wall—”
Hermione’s eyebrows raised higher.
“NOT LIKE THAT! It’s just, I don't know— I think he realized after though and he just…left.”
Hermione sighed, putting her head in her hands. “Merlin, you two are hopeless. There’s no way…”
“Hey!”
“Just make out already, please—”
“STOP SAYING THAT!”
“It’s the truth though.”
“It most definitely isn’t!”
“Whatever you say, Harry.”
—
“Did you two make out?”
Draco groaned, half considering walking back out of the common room just to avoid Pansy. Instead, he walked directly past her, not bothering to look at her.
“No, we didn’t,” Draco responded simply. Pansy jumped from where she was sitting on the couch to follow him on the walk to his dorm.
“Are you sure? I saw you whisk Potter away to an empty classroom, presumably,” Pansy said, smirking. Draco flushed.
“We simply argued, nothing more,” he said. Pansy raised an eyebrow.
“What else? I can see there was more.”
Draco huffed. “Well…I may have gotten a bit upset and pushed him into a wall— shut your mouth Pansy, I do not want to hear your unseemly comments— and I accused him of being the cause of all the articles.”
“And?”
“It seems…he rather isn’t, apparently. He says he doesn’t like the attention.”
“...And?”
Draco sighed. “I told him it was his fault because he argued with me in public.”
“And then you guys made out—”
“We did not!” Draco declared, stopping in front of his dorm room. He opened the door to enter and turned to Pansy. “Now, I would appreciate if you would leave me alone—”
Rather abruptly, Pansy lightly pushed Draco aside and stormed into his dorm room with a cackle. Draco scowled.
“Ugh! Pansy, get out of my dorm—”
Draco froze, eyes widening as his gaze fell on the item on his desk. Pansy frowned.
“Draco? What's wrong—oh!”
Tentatively, he walked up to the desk, heart dropping at what he saw. Pansy let out a gasp from next to him.
Draco…well, he should’ve expected this.
“I can’t,” Draco declared, instantly turning around to beeline back to the common room. Pansy grabbed him on the arm, dragging him back.
“Salzar! That hurt, Pansy,” Draco gritted out, rubbing his arm. Pansy rolled her eyes.
“Just open it!” Pansy hissed, examining down at the item on Draco’s desk with interest.
“Pansy, I have absolutely no idea what they’re going to say!” Draco said, looking at the envelope in fear. “I mean, what would you tell your child if you found out he was supposedly involved with Harry Potter?!”
“I’d congratulate them,” Pansy deadpanned. “Draco, it’s fine. They probably know it’s untrue. For now.”
“I don’t know,” Draco mumbled, ignoring the end of Pansy’s comment. Despite his nerves, Draco reached to pick up the envelope, which had his father’s and mother’s handwriting. He tentatively opened the envelope to see two pieces of parchment in it—a separate message from each of his parents.
Carefully picking his mother’s note first, he took a deep breath and read.
Draco,
I am unsure if the Prophet speaks the truth or not. However, truth or lies, know that you are always my son and I will continue to support you no matter what. If you choose to date a man, even Harry Potter, be assured that I will love and defend you.
I am telling you this with certainty because I know how the world can be in the face of love, especially with people such as ourselves and Potter. My only ask is that you be careful in this new face of love you have discovered amongst yourself and Potter.
Your father has also enclosed his own message in this envelope. I am unsure of his thoughts on this matter, as he would not let me see his message nor did he visibly react to the information.
I wish you the best of luck. I know how your father can be at times, but do not doubt that he loves you.
With love,
Your Mother
“You know, I am more concerned that Mother would still love me if I dated Harry Potter,” Draco said, wrinkling his nose. “The message was rather touching though.”
“Yeah, and she didn’t even seem surprised,” Pansy said, cackling. “I wonder why.”
Draco ignored Pansy once again in favor of reaching for the second parchment in the envelope. This one, he was rather nervous about. Even if the rumors weren’t true, he was still queer. If his father was against that, it wouldn’t look good for his future relationship with his parents.
“Open it!” Pansy hissed.
“I am!” Draco gritted out. He unfolded the parchment, ignoring his nerves.
Draco,
Despite your mother insisting otherwise, I am almost certain that what the Prophet is writing are complete lies. However, on the off-chance that it is the truth, as you are my son, and the choices you make are questionable, I must make sure you know this.
You are, and always will be, my son. While at times, I do not understand your choices in life, and so desperately wish that you choose otherwise, I will always see you as my son. Being queer and dating Harry Potter will not change that.
I understand our past has been hard, and I may not be the most expressive father in the world, but what I write is the truth. You are my son, and I love you dearly.
If this is the path you have truly chosen, I will continue to support you as I always have.
Best wishes,
Lucius
“I’m touched, really,” Draco said, staring down at the letter in shock. “But why did I have to get this letter in these circumstances? And why was Mother insisting otherwise!?”
“I would too,” Pansy said dryly. “And it’s not like she’s the only unsurprised person. Unless you’re forgetting the quotes in the article?”
Draco scowled deeply and Pansy cackled loudly.
—
Dear Mother and Father,
Thank you for your letters. As your son, it was very touching to see that you would support me under such possibilities.
However, I would like to clarify that what the Daily Prophet is writing is complete and utter nonsense. If I ever date Harry Potter, I request that you please knock some sense into me.
Nevertheless, I am deeply relieved that you two would still consider me your son even under such bizarre circumstances. I would like to take this opportunity to tell you that the one thing the Daily Prophet got right is that I am queer — simply not dating Potter, as I have a much better taste.
Thank you for your reassurance. I am proud to be your son, and glad to see you still consider me as such.
Sincerely,
Your son, Draco
—
The day after the argument in the classroom, Harry was ready to confront Malfoy.
He was ready to demand why Malfoy thought he was behind the article. He was ready to demand why Malfoy thought he was behind every Skeeter article about him.
All of that vanished the moment he actually saw him.
He was practically storming into an empty corridor after class, muttering obscenities about Malfoy under his breath until he almost bumped into the man himself.
“Watch where you’re going, Potter,” Malfoy said bitterly. and Harry’s mind went completely blank. The only thing he could focus on was Malfoy’s platinum hair, which had gotten longer, falling slightly into his eyes and resting at the nape of his neck.
Harry felt his heartbeat speed up involuntarily.
“Malfoy,” he said and wanted to cringe at his tone of voice, which was dumbfounded for some odd reason. Malfoy’s face twisted in confusion, and his face was red already—was he angry at Harry?
“Potter? Yes? Why are you looking at me like that?” Malfoy asked, crossing his arms and peering at Harry with poorly veiled interest. Harry barely paid attention to his words, his gaze focusing involuntarily on Malfoy’s grey eyes and the specks of different shades dotting the iris.
But it wasn’t the same. He’s seen those eyes at a close-up, pupils dilated and—
No, no, no! What am I thinking!?
Malfoy continued to peer at him, expression completely baffled. “Potter? Are you going to—”
“I have to go!” Harry sputtered and bolted out of the corridor. He quickly rounded a corner, neatly hiding behind a tapestry and taking a deep breath.
What the hell was that?!
He could barely even stand to be around Malfoy after yesterday! Maybe it was because…he was so angry at him! Yeah!
That must be it , Harry assured himself, as he made his way back to the common room.
“Hermione, I talked to Malfoy today,” Harry started the moment he saw her in the common room, plopping onto the couch next to her. Hermione looked surprised for a moment before closing her book.
“Talked? Not argued?” she asked. Harry huffed.
“Well, kind of. He did the talking,” Harry said. Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“And you did…what?”
Harry shifted uncomfortably. “I was distracted. I didn’t respond.”
Hermione gaped at him. “...distracted.”
Harry nodded sullenly. “Yes. I was so angry at him I could barely stand to be around him!”
Hermione stared at him for a moment before dissolving into laughter.
“Merlin—You can’t be serious,” she said through giggles, much to Harry’s confusion. “Harry, just admit you found him desirable and ran away because you couldn’t admit it.”
Harry’s face instantly turned beet red, and he scowled. “No, it’s not that! I don’t understand why the hell you think I fancy Malfoy! We’ve hated each other for years!”
“There is a very thin line between love and hate,” Hermione declared, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“No there bloody isn’t! I hate that prat!” Harry gritted out. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Harry, just admit you want to date him.”
And that was the one thing that made Harry blow up.
“NO! THERE’S NO WAY I'D LIKE MALFOY! IT DOESN'T MATTER IF HE'S UNFAIRLY FIT AND THE ONLY GOOD RIVAL I HAVE HERE THAT'S ENTHRALLING TO BANTER WITH! IT DOESN'T MATTER IF HIS PERSONALITY IS ACTUALLY ENDEARING! IT DOESN’T MATTER IF I THINK HE LOOKS EVEN MORE FIT WHEN HE’S ANGRY AND FLUSHED! IT DOESN’T MATTER—"
Harry paused.
Wait.
No, hold on.
Wait a fucking second.
“Oh no,” Harry mumbled, eyes wide as he stared at Hermione, who looked pleasantly shocked. “I fucking fancy Malfoy. ”
The twinkle in her eyes seemed to multiply.
“I have to go!” Hermione yelled, not even waiting for Harry to respond as she flew out of the common room.
“‘Mione, wait! How in Merlin’s name above do I deal with this revelation—oh for Godric’s sake.”
—
“Pansy, something rather odd happened to me just now.”
“Mm?” Pansy muttered distractedly, idly flipping a page in her textbook.
“Yes. I just came across Potter—”
Pansy’s eyes widened, and her head whipped to face Draco.
“—and he acted rather odd.”
“Oh?” Pansy said, shutting her book at turning to face Draco.
Draco frowned. “Yes. I almost bumped into him, and I told him to watch where he was going. He didn’t respond, however.”
Pansy’s eyes brightened, a small smirk on her face. “Oh?”
“Yes. It was rather strange. He seemed flushed. Do you really think he was that upset at me because of the last argument we had?” Draco asked. He didn’t seem that upset. In fact, if Draco dared to think it, a flustered Potter was rather endearing—
No! No, stop thinking about this.
“As I was saying,” Draco continued smoothly, internal crisis shoved aside, “What do you think that was about?”
Pansy’s smirk widened and she tilted her head. “Perhaps he was too…flustered to talk with you.”
Draco frowned, pondering. Actually, if he recalls correctly…
“He actually did talk.”
“And what did he say?”
“My name. But that’s it. His tone was rather odd.”
“...odd in what way?”
“Like…as if he was distracted, or something.”
Rather abruptly, Pansy shot out of the couch, a grin on her face. Draco frowned.
“Pansy?”
“I—I have to go!” Pansy yelled excitedly, which was so out of character for her Draco could do nothing but gape as she sprinted out of the common room.
Notes:
harry finally realized it!! ...and so did pansy and Hermione....much before him....
Chapter 3: Chapter Three
Summary:
Draco makes a revelation, and a plan is concocted.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hermione wasn’t even surprised when she found Parkinson dashing into the library at the same time she did.
“Did you hear? About their encounter earlier today?” Hermione started, not even bothering to mask the excitement in her voice. Parkinson grinned.
“Yes. Draco is unaware, as per usual, but I think he may be starting to realize. And on your end?”
Hermione matched Parkinson’s grin. “Harry finally admitted it.”
Parkinson’s eyes widened. “I knew it! Salazar, that was quicker than I thought would happen! You work quick, Granger.”
“Mm, yeah,” Hermione replied, smirking. “I think I pushed him to his limit, really. He exploded about how he ‘didn’t like Malfoy’ even though he said he found him endearing and unfairly fit. The moment he realized exactly what he was saying, he admitted it. He looked rather terrified, actually.”
Pansy snickered at that, grinning. “Who would’ve thought the oblivious Gryffindor would be the first to realize? Now we just need Draco to admit it.”
Hermione smiled, raising an eyebrow. “And I’m leaving that to you, Parkinson.”
Pansy smirked. “Don’t worry about it, Granger. It’s really only a matter of time.”
—
Hermione should have known she was opening this can of worms the moment Harry admitted it.
It had been fifteen minutes, and Harry was still on his Malfoy tangent. Only now, the tangents contained very different information on what he thought about Malfoy.
Ron, where the fuck are you, Hermione thought desperately, trying not to groan as Harry described in uncanny detail how much he loved Malfoy’s eyes. I sent you an owl ten minutes ago. Stop stuffing food in your face and save me.
Hermione immediately perked up the moment she heard a few thumps from outside of the dorm room door.
“Is that Ron?” Harry mumbled. “Oh well. Anyways, you don’t understand, ‘Mione, his hair—”
Ron opened the door not a few moments later, looking at Harry and Hermione with faint curiosity.
“Harry! I heard you were talking about who you fancy—oh Merlin, you’re on about about Malfoy—”
“—his hair, it looks so soft…I wish I could touch it, and his eyes —”
Hermione resisted the urge to cackle as Ron went white in horror.
“OH MERLIN, YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT MALFOY?!”
Harry winced. “Er.”
“HARRY! I thought—you said you weren’t gay! You said you’d never date Malfoy!” Ron said, visibly aghast. Harry went infinitely redder.
“Er, I guess, I was unaware? Sorry mate,” Harry said sheepishly, scratching his head.
“Wh—Malfoy, though!? Why in Godric’s name do you fancy him!?” Ron sputtered. Harry flushed.
“Well, er, he is rather fit—”
Ron looked as if five years were taken from his lifespan.
“—he’s the only rival that is…exciting? To banter with, I mean—”
Ron looked as if ten years were taken from his lifespan.
“—and, er, he is rather…endearing…”
Ron looked as if he wanted to cease existing.
He walked over to his bed, sat down, and put his head in his hands. “Oh Merlin….I’m going to have to be nice…to fucking Malfoy …Harry, why’d you have to fancy him,” he said, sounding uncannily like a child. Hermione giggled.
“It wasn’t a conscious decision I made, mate,” Harry said, chewing his lip and looking rather embarrassed. Suddenly, his face fell. “Oh Merlin. I’m queer. Rita Skeeter was right.”
Hermione scoffed. “You just realized?”
Harry sighed and Ron groaned in defeat.
—
Something was off.
Draco knew it the moment he got through all of his classes and Potter had barely looked at him once. Usually, their shared classes would be filled with glowering and even a silent hex or two. Today?
Absolutely nothing.
The only interaction they had was meeting eyes once, and Potter had immediately broke eye contact, looking down at his desk for the rest of the lesson. Draco couldn’t understand why .
Even more, he couldn’t understand why he was so bothered. Pansy and Blaise seemed to notice it too.
“Alright, what is it?” Blaise said, fixing a dry expression onto Draco as he paced around the common room. “You’ve been pacing around for almost ten minutes now.”
Draco huffed. “It’s just…”
“Just what?” Pansy asked.
“Potter. He’s been acting weird all day .”
“Soo, weird as in…he didn’t argue with you?” Blaise asked, snickering. Pansy grinned.
“Yes!” Draco said, crossing his arms. “He looked at me once , then looked at his desk for the rest of the lesson! He’s ignoring me!”
Pansy giggled. “And you're bothered by it? You seem a bit obsessed, Draco.”
“I’m not obsessed! It’s just odd! I don’t even understand why I’m so bothered by it.”
Blaise and Pansy shared a look.
“Okay, well, think about this logically,” Blaise said, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve become so used to Potter arguing with you on a daily basis it’s ingrained in your routine. I even suspect you may be slightly…fond of such interactions.”
“F-Fond!?” Draco sputtered. Pah! What a ridiculous notion. “I am not fond of Potter!”
“Are you sure?” Pansy asked, tilting her head. “Why else would you be this worked up over Potter not acknowledging you? Even if it’s not fondness, you have to admit you at least find those interactions with him enthralling.”
“No, I don’t have to admit that!” Draco denied hotly. “I’m going to the dorm.”
Draco stormed down the hall, now more confused and frustrated than before. What they said…kind of made sense, but no! Draco would never be… fond… of bloody Potter! Never!
However…if Draco thinks back to the interactions, they were quite enthralling. Even afterward, he didn’t feel worse. In fact, he felt almost how he would after a Quidditch match. Did this mean—
“No,” Draco assured himself. “It’s just Pansy and Blaise being bumbling idiots.”
He is not fond of Potter. And he’s going to make sure Potter doesn’t ignore him tomorrow.
—
“Potter.”
Draco felt a spark of satisfaction the moment Potter froze, turning around to meet Draco’s gaze, his eyes wide.
“Malfoy,” Potter responded, taking a few steps backward. Draco scowled and moved closer to him.
“You think you can ignore me, Potter?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. Potter scoffed, but he was avoiding Draco’s eyes. For some reason, his face was pink and he looked rather flustered.
“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Malfoy. Maybe I just wanted to focus on my schoolwork,” he countered, but his voice sounded weak. Draco scowled harder.
“Is that so? You looked at me yesterday, then ignored me the rest of the class! Care to explain that?” Draco said. Potter rolled his eyes.
“Seriously? Do you know how childish you sound right now?” Potter gritted out. Draco glowered down at him. Childish?! What a ridiculous notion!
“Childish?! Don’t be an idiot, Potter! If anything, you’re the childish one for ignoring me simply because you’re so angry!” Draco yelled. Potter tilted his head in confusion. Draco’s stomach flipped.
Why was that rather endearing — NO! No, don’t go in that direction. You’re the Malfoy heir —
“Because I’m so…angry?” Potter repeated, knocking Draco out of his internal crisis. “Where did you get that from?”
Draco scoffed. “It’s obvious! You always seem flushed and upset every time I look at you and approach you! If not that, what else?”
Potter gaped at Draco for a moment, blinking in shock. He looked rather embarrassed. A second later, his embarrassment morphed into a scowl. “Why do you care so much anyway?!”
Draco paused.
Wait.
Why did he care so much?
Unable to muster a response, Draco scowled and whipped around, beelining out of the corridor directly into the common room.
—
“Pansy, Blaise, something rather odd happened to me,” Draco started the moment he saw them lounging on the common room couch.
“Let me guess, it’s about Potter?” Blaise said dryly, not even bothering to look up from his book. Draco rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to the pair.
“Well, yes. I confronted him about ignoring me—”
“There’s no way he genuinely thinks he’s not gay for P—”
“—and he seemed rather flushed. He said he was apparently trying to focus.” Draco scowled. “I don’t believe him at all! I think he’s simply being petty.”
“Draco, for fuck’s sake,” Pansy deadpanned. “Can you seriously not go one day without getting some sort of attention from Potter.”
“No!” Draco countered, looking at Pansy with a horrified expression. “It’s just unusual to not argue with him!”
“So you admit that you want to interact with him everyday.”
“No!”
“But you literally just said—”
“No! It’s not like that! You two are twisting it around to make it seem…” Draco trailed off, scowling. Blaise raised an eyebrow.
“Make it seem like what?”
“Weird! Understand that me and Potter…I simply enjoy… arguing with him…”
Blaise sighed, tuning to Pansy. “You're on your own. I’m not convincing this idiot.”
“Excuse me?!” Draco exclaimed, affronted. Pansy rolled her eyes.
“No, he’s right. The only reason I’m still doing this is because I’m such a good friend,” Pansy said dryly. Draco glowered at her.
“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s simply untrue! I find arguing with him to be entertaining! Nothing more!”
“If that’s the case, why don’t you just argue with Weasley?” Pansy asked, quicking an eyebrow. Draco scoffed.
“Weasley!? Seriously, Pansy? It’s not the same!”
“And why may that be? Draco, just admit it. You literally said you found out you were queer because of Potter—”
“But I don’t—”
“—you find your arguments, which is basically just fucking foreplay—”
“ FOREPLAY?! ”
“—to be entertaining…Draco, all of this sounds like you fancy him.”
“I don’t!” Draco assured, but he felt his stomach sink. He did find Potter to be attractive. He did find Potter to be endearing and was worked up the entire day when Potter ignored him. Did this actually mean that he—
“No! Absolutely not!” Draco said, shaking his head.
“Draco—”
“No!”
“Admit it—”
“NO!”
“Just admit it already!”
Draco sighed, putting his head in his hands. He can’t! He’s the Malfoy heir. His taste is far better than—
“Fucking Potter .”
“…and what is it about Potter?”
“No. I can’t—”
“Draco,” Pansy interrupted. “The fact that this is a conversation we’re even having right now is already very telling.”
Draco scowled, his face beet red. “Fine! Fine! I fucking fancy Potter!”
Draco stood from the couch, visibly seething. “I hate him so much!”
Pansy could do nothing but cackle in delight as Draco stomped out of the common room, muttering obscenities under his breath.
—
Hermione knew the moment she saw the grin on Parkinson’s face when she entered the library that something big happened.
“Did he?” Hermione asked instantly, shutting her book. Parkinson cackled, pulling up a chair and sitting down.
“Yes. Draco admitted it,” she said, a small smirk forming on her face. “And of course, he said he hated him right after.”
Hermione mirrored Parkinson’s smirk. “So, they’ve both finally admitted it.”
“That they have. It was bloody exhausting to get them to do so, but they have,” Parkinson said, letting out a small sigh. “Do you think they can get together themselves?”
Hermione raised an eyebrow. “When they’ve needed this much pushing to only admit they’re gay for eachother? Definitely not.”
Parkinson huffed. “Why don’t we just shove them in an empty classroom together or something? I’m tired of having to hear about all of Draco’s thoughts on bloody Potter.”
Hermione laughed. “Same with Harry. All of his rants about Malfoy are now focused on him admiring his hair and eyes. It’s exhausting. I think even at this point, Ron is praying to Merlin to get them together.”
“Not Weasley? Salazar, it must be bad then,” Parkinson said, her eyebrows raising in shock.
“It is,” Hermione responded, sighing. Parkinson propped her elbows on the table, leaning in closer toward Hermione.
“Granger, to be frank, I think the best course of action at this stage would be to let the tension…boil,” Parkinson said, a mischievous glint in her eye. Hermione grinned.
“I see. Afterall, it’s only a matter of time before the two realize that they're avoiding each other. So now, we wait.”
Parkinson smirked. “That we do.”
—
“You don’t understand, Blaise. He’s just so… fascinating !”
“No, I think I understand well enough considering you’ve been ranting about how much you want to shag Potter for the last fifteen minutes,” Blaise responded dryly. Draco’s face instantly erupted into a fierce blush.
“S- Shag him?! Nothing as such! Where did you get such an impression!?” Draco asked, scowling. Blaise raised an eyebrow. Was Draco an idiot?
“There’s genuinely no way you’re asking me that seriously,” Blaise deadpanned. “Draco, you’ve been ranting about how hot you think Potter is—”
“I simply said I find him to be visually appealing—”
“—how exciting you find your stupid fucking arguments—”
“Potter is a good rival—!”
“—and how good he looks when he’s riled up when you mess with him. Sounds like to me you desperately want to shag him.”
Draco glowered. “ Desperately?! I’m not desperate! Fuck you!”
“No, do that to Potter. If it’ll get you to bloody shut up. Merlin.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Oh shut it. You’re so bloody dramatic. Like I didn’t let you harp on about that one Ravenclaw girl—”
“Bloody hell, Draco!” Blaise hissed, face heating up from embarrassment. “Do you seriously have to bring that up? Getting defensive over your little crush on Potter has turned you into a monster!”
Draco sputtered. “ Little crush?! Salzar, you’re so annoying! Whatever! I’m going to the dorm,” Draco sniffed primly, before stomping away like the dramatic prick he was. Blaise sighed, turning toward Pansy, who was analyzing the interaction with an amused look from a table nearby.
There was only one solution to this.
“Hey, Pansy.”
“Yes, Blaise?”
“You’ve been planning with Granger to get these two dumbasses to shag, right?”
“...Yes?”
“Very well. I have one simple request.”
“Go on?”
“Let me join.”
—
Ron was tired of it.
It was bad hearing it. It was even fucking worse seeing it.
“Mate!” Ron hissed, elbowing Harry the moment he noticed his gaze trailing off to the side. Harry hissed in pain, and Ron glanced around him to see the distraction.
Malfoy. Of course, it was bloody Malfoy. Ron scowled.
“Mate, I get that you’re gay for him—”
“Not so loud!”
“But please don’t ruin my Transfiguration grade because you’re too busy staring at him!” Ron said, pouting slightly. He wanted to make use of this study hall! Harry rolled his eyes.
“As if your grades aren’t already in the bloody trenches. Ask Ginny, she’s been listening in on the Professor’s meetings for weeks now. You’re brought up in every single one.”
Ginny, who was blatantly eavesdropping nearby, and already knew of Harry’s newfound interest in Malfoy ("Is this supposed to be shocking information?" she had asked), snickered and held a thumbs up. Ron gaped. Now that was just uncalled for.
“Seriously mate!? Malfoy’s turned you into a monster,” Ron declared. Harry sighed.
“I can’t help it, Ron. He’s just so…”
“Nope!” Ron said, covering his ears and turning away from Harry. “Don’t want to bloody hear it. Please don’t go on a Malfoy-tangent again.”
“Malfoy-tangent?” Harry asked disbelievingly. “You’ve named them?”
“They’re worthy of a name,” Ron mumbled bitterly, gingerly uncovering his ears. “Bloody torture, it is.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh please, I dealt with you drooling all over Lavender Brown for the entirety of sixth year.”
“It wasn’t the entirety !” Ron said, flushing. He huffed disbelievingly. Harry was so against him!
“I’ll just leave you to your ogling then,” Ron said, getting up from the table and walking away. He was going to the common room. Far away from Harry.
“ Ogling!? ”
—
“‘Mione, can you please do something about Harry,” Ron whined, flopping onto the couch next to her. Hermione looked at him, unamused.
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” she asked dryly. She flipped a page in her book. “It already took this long to get him to admit that he likes Malfoy.”
“Yeah, and a fat lot that has done,” Ron grumbled. “His Malfoy-tangents are even worse—wait what do you mean it took this long to get him to admit he likes Malfoy!?”
“Honestly Ron,” Hermione said with an eye roll. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that they were head over heels for each other?”
“FOR EACH OTHER!?” Ron sputtered. “MALFOY LIKES HIM BACK?!”
“Obviously he does,” Hermione said in a no-nonsense tone, shifting her gaze to Ron and raising an eyebrow. “Have you seen their arguments? It’s literally just foreplay.”
Ron wrinkled his nose. “Please don’t tell me that. But you’re telling me you’ve been actively getting them to admit they like each other?”
Hermione shrugged. “For Harry, yeah. For Malfoy…well, Parkinson did that.”
Ron gaped. “Is that why you two were meeting in the library!?”
Hermione nodded, smirking. Ron gulped.
“And…how long, exactly, did it take for them to admit it?”
“Long enough.”
“So…how long will it take for them to get together and have Harry stop ranting about him?”
Hermione smirked. “Maybe…a month?”
Ron felt his world crumble then and there. Ginny almost dying in second-year? No. His dad almost dying in fifth-year? No. None of that compares to the absolute despair Ron Weasley felt when he realized he’d have to listen to Harry Potter rant about Draco Malfoy for a month.
“No. Please ,” Ron begged. “I’ll do bloody anything to make it sooner. I’ll even help.”
Hermione stared at him for a moment, lips twitching, before erupting into laughter.
—
“ Weasley!? Are we this desperate, Granger?”
Hermione chuckled, pulling up a chair for herself and Ron to the library table and nodding toward Zabini cordially. She turned to face Parkinson.
“He’s the one who’s desperate,” Hermione responded. Parkinson’s eyebrows raised, and her gaze flicked toward Ron, who gulped nervously.
“I’m just bloody tired of hearing Harry rant about Malfoy all the bloody time!” Ron said defensively. Zabini chuckled and Parkinson grinned.
“Alright, very well. A valid reason,” Parkinson said. “I will admit, me and Blaise are tired of hearing Draco harp on and on about Potter. It was precisely the reason I informed you Blaise was to join our next meeting. It might be the best course of action to just get them together.”
Zabini nodded. “I suspect about a month’s time for them without us interfering.”
Hermione hummed in agreement. “My thoughts exactly. What can we do, though? There’s only so much tension that can build up before they have to do something about it.”
Ron’s face soured. “What does ‘do something’ mean?”
“Do you want to know the answer to that, Weasley?”
“Let’s move on,” Ron said, looking faintly green. Parkinson cackled.
“So, any ideas?” Hermione asked, glancing around at their group. “We have the advantage of all four of us being here. That means all of Harry and Malfoy’s closest friends can be used to push them in whatever direction necessary. That works particularly well for us, because Harry would never expect Ron to participate in something like this—”
Ron huffed. “Believe me, I’m bloody reconsidering it myself—”
“—because he’s such an idiot—”
“Hey!”
“—so we have that element of surprise at our disposal,” Hermione continued smoothly, ignoring Ron’s offended sputters. Parkinson tutted in agreement, her lips twitching upward at the interaction.
“That’s very true. I doubt Draco would think Blaise would be bothered enough to participate in something like this, either. We have that to use as well.”
Hermione chewed her lip in thought. If Harry or Malfoy didn’t expect Ron or Zabini to be involved in a scheme…
“Then how about a lure?”
Parkinson grinned. “I like the way your mind works, Granger.”
—
“I heard something interesting, Draco.”
Draco hummed in acknowledgment at Blaise’s voice. “Yes?”
“I don’t rather have much interest in it, but since I’m a good friend, and it’s about Potter—”
Draco’s head instantly whipped to face Blaise.
“—I thought you might like to know.”
“Go on?” Draco asked, trying and failing to keep the blatant curiosity from his voice. Blaise smirked.
“Well, I heard a rumor that Potter was going on a date in the Prefect bathroom at midnight.”
Draco stilled in shock, his jaw dropping.
“A date?! Who?!” Draco demanded, already seething. Who was Potter meeting in the Prefect bathroom, to very obviously shag?!
Blaise shrugged nonchalantly. “Dunno. I don’t even know if it’s true or not. For my own sanity though, go check it out and see if you still have a chance with him. I can’t bloody stand you always harping about him.”
“Hmph! As if I’d do that!” Draco responded primly, turning away from Blaise. “Frankly, it’s none of my business! I’m not going there at midnight!”
Blaise smirked. Truthfully, Draco couldn’t have made it any more obvious that he was lying.
—
“Oi, mate.”
“Yeah, Ron?” Harry responded from behind his four-poster bed curtain, idly flipping a page from his book.
“Heard something interesting. I usually wouldn’t bother, but you’ve been on and on about Malfoy—”
Harry instantly shoved open the curtains and fixated his full attention on Ron. Ron faltered, now looking mildly uncomfortable.
“Yes?” Harry asked, blinking attentively.
“Er, yeah. Heard he was going on a date, mate. In the Prefect’s bathroom at midnight.”
Harry gaped, feeling his heart sink. “A date?! In the Prefect’s bathroom!? B-But why the Prefect bathroom?! Whatever would you do there for a date?! That’s not romantic at all! It’s just—”
“Mate, calm down—”
“—an enclosed space—wait, an enclosed space?! Does he have a lover!? Are they going to shag?! Since when—”
“Mate—”
“—I thought—”
“MATE!”
Harry winced, breaking out of his tangent. Ron sighed.
“You have your cloak and eyes, mate. It was just a rumor. Just– I dunno, check it out and see if it’s true. That way you’ll know if you have a chance with him.”
Harry hummed.
“Yeah, maybe,” he said weakly. But Harry already knew his mind was made up.
Notes:
all 4 of them are scheming and harry and draco are completely and utterly oblivious!!! i wonder whats gonna happen... 👀
Chapter 4: Chapter Four
Summary:
Confessions are made, and a new relationship forms.
Chapter Text
Draco was getting impatient.
He sighed, glancing at the wall of the prefect bathroom, where the large clock read 12:05 AM .
Alright, so maybe his impatience was rather unwarranted. He was just bloody nervous. What if Potter actually had a date here? Draco huffed.
There’s no bloody point, anyway, Draco thought and sighed. I’ll just leave .
Draco stepped away from where he was in the corner of the room, slowly making his way to the exit, cringing at the amount of hopelessness he felt at the moment. It’s not like he’d fancy you back anyway —
“Ow!”
Draco gaped, blinking in shock, recoiling as he bumped into…literally nothing. “What the—”
The culprit hit the floor, and the silky fabric of an invisibility cloak slid off of him.
Potter.
“Potter,” Draco said, sneering, feeling the familiar feeling of excitement buzzing under his skin at the sight of him, all previous talks about him having a date forgotten. “And what exactly are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” Potter countered, scowling as he pushed himself off the floor. Draco sneered at him. What was Potter doing here? Why was Potter watching him under the ruse of invisibility?
“I happen to have been a Prefect in the past, and have every right to be here,” Draco countered. “You, on the other hand, are under an invisibility cloak, which is far more suspicious than me simply being out after hours.”
Potter rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Malfoy. It’s not like night excursions are unusual for the either of us—”
“You followed me here,” Draco accused, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t seem surprised at all that I’m here.”
Potter scowled at him, face flushing. “The world doesn’t bloody revolve around you! Just because you happen to be here and I wanted to…”
Draco scoffed. “I knew it! You wanted to what ? What is it Potter? You were going to hex me? You followed me on purpose! You proved it with your slip of words!”
Potter huffed, averting his gaze from Draco’s. Draco scowled harder. His silence told it all.
“I’m not going to ask you again. Why are you here, Potter, and what does it have to do with me?!”
“Fine! I heard you…”
“Spit it out then!”
“I heard you had a date! There!” Potter said, flushing deeply and scowling. “Happy now?!”
Draco blinked. “A date…? Potter, what are you on about— why would you even care if I had a date or not?!”
Potter’s face reddened further, and he took a deep breath. “I wanted to…see if I had a…”
“A what ?”
“A…chance.”
“A chance for…what?”
Potter scowled. “Now you’re just bloody toying with me. You aren’t stupid, Malfoy, so I’d appreciate if you could actually—”
Draco blinked, now feeling genuinely confused. “Potter, I have no bloody idea what you’re talking about. What chance do you want? And what does it have to do with me having a date ?”
“Isn’t it bloody obvious?” Potter said softly.
And it clicked.
The reason Potter was so flustered all the time when talking to Draco. The reason he ignored Draco so suddenly.
“You…fancy me,” Draco said, tone disbelieving. Potter stilled, fear flashing in his eyes before it shifted to surrender.
“Yeah. I do,” Potter said, his voice tiny. His tone was sullen, and it made Draco’s heart break a little. Potter started to slowly back away, looking at the ground. “Obviously, you don’t feel the same way—I’ll just, uh, I’ll just go—”
“Wait!”
Draco reached out to grab Potter’s arm, forcing him to still. “Wait. Please.”
Potter blinked, confusion evident. “But—”
“Just wait I…I…”
Draco sighed. “I don’t know how to…say it.”
“Say…what?” Potter asked, tilting his head, his tone shocked, eyes wide with an emotion Draco couldn’t even begin to decipher.
“Potter, I…I’m not upset or weirded out to hear you fancy me,” Draco said, dutifully avoiding Potter’s fierce gaze. He felt his face heat up.
“...But why?”
Draco let out a soft laugh. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Potter blinked. “But I can’t— I can’t get my hopes up—”
Draco flinched. “But—”
“What if…what if—”
“Potter, it’s not a joke,” Draco said, cringing at his voice breaking. “I…it’s difficult to admit. I’m sorry. But I’m being genuine. I fancy you. I fancy you back, Harry.”
Harry stilled, his bright green eyes wide and disbelieving as he stared up at Draco. Draco couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath at the sight, becuse fuck, he was so beautiful , he just wanted to gravitate closer.
And closer.
And closer.
Draco gently lifted his hands to cup Harry’s face, ignoring the very obvious trembling of them.
“Harry,” he said softly, tone faraway.
“Draco,” Harry responded, and their lips met.
It had to have been the softest, most sweet kiss Draco’s ever had in his entire life. There was something sensual about the way their lips moved against one another, how they fit so perfectly . Draco almost never wanted to pull away, but when he did, his mind was fuzzy and he felt dazed.
“I…”
“You…weren’t lying,” Harry said, looking up at Draco, eyes bright with joy. A small smile formed on his face, and Draco couldn’t help but mirror it.
“Yes,” Draco said. “I wasn’t lying.”
“But…I don’t understand,” Harry said, tilting his head. “Why? Why do you fancy me ?”
Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I imagine you expected me to say this…but it is quite a long story.”
Harry let out a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s expected. I don’t mind hearing it, though.”
Draco chewed his lip nervously. “Well, I noticed myself somewhat…looking forward to our arguments. Days when I wouldn’t get as much attention from you, I was upset and couldn’t figure out why. I didn’t feel like I hated you at all, or anything or the sort, even before when I made disparaging comments about your hair and such. Actually, I find you quite attractive. Pansy…well, she basically forced me to admit it.”
Harry let out a soft laugh at that. “That’s certainly something. It’s funny, because that’s almost exactly how it feels for me.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Really? To be fair, I can’t say I’m too surprised though.”
Harry grinned. “Yeah. I couldn’t stop thinking about our interactions after the start of eighth-year. I could see…you’d genuinely changed from being the bigoted person you were before. But you were still the same person at core, and our verbal clashes felt so familiar. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and who you were, basically. Hermione also made fun of me so much it pushed me to admit I fancied you in an outburst where I was insisting that I didn't fancy you.”
Draco grinned at that. “Alright, that’s rather hilarious. I don’t think there’s any way we would’ve been able to get together if it took us that much to admit we even liked each other, truthfully.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “The exact same thing happened to you, so you can’t talk. We also happened to just meet here anyway, so I suppose it all worked out.”
Draco tutted, now thinking back to this evening. Blaise had said Harry had a date. Where did he even get that information from? “Actually, Blaise said you had a date here at midnight. That’s why I came.”
Harry blinked in confusion. “Me? A date? Here? That makes no bloody sense.”
Draco let out a bright laugh. “Well, I’m definitely glad I came, even though I fully expected to see you here with someone else. I just had to confirm I had a chance, I suppose.”
Harry smiled. “Same here…wait.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Wait. Draco, you said that Blaise told you I had a date here at midnight, right?”
Draco paused. A few pieces were falling together, and Draco wasn’t liking the picture they were making.
“...Yes, Harry. Why?”
“But—That doesn’t make any sense! Ron told me that you had a date there at midnight and that’s why I came here in the first place! Unless they planned this entire thing—wait a minute.”
Draco took a deep breath and shut his eyes.
“Those. Fucking. Idiots .”
—
“You scheming bastards !”
Hermione glanced up from her book on the library table, looking completely unsurprised at Draco’s outburst and Harry’s furious expression. Pansy yawned, Ron snickered, and Blaise grinned.
“How long have you been planning this?” Harry grit out. Hermione smirked.
“Ever since the article about you two dating.”
Harry gaped. “That far back?! Wh— How could you even tell?! ”
Hermione and Pansy rolled their eyes in sync, and Hermione scoffed. “Oh honestly. It was so bloody obvious that you couldn’t stop thinking about that hug with Malfoy.”
Harry flushed, and Draco’s face lit up with glee. “Really?!”
Pansy snickered. “And I’ve known since before then. So bloody obvious in those arguments you two had. Draco wouldn’t shut up about them.”
This time, Harry’s face lit up with glee. “ Really?! ”
Blaise chuckled. “Yes, really. These two—” he motioned toward Hermione and Pansy, “Were the initial planners. They were the ones who got you two to admit that you actually liked each other.”
Harry sighed. “Honestly, that makes sense now that I think about it. You really did a lot of urging on that end.”
Draco hummed in agreement. “I should have been able to tell by the amount of insisting Pansy did.”
Blaise rolled his eyes. “ You were an oblivious idiot. No way you would have been able to tell.”
Draco scowled, ready to quip back—
“But how’d you and Ron get involved?” Harry asked, tilting his head in confusion. “It doesn’t seem like something Ron would do, and I’d wager the same for you, Zabini.”
Blaise nodded in agreement. “You would be correct, Potter. Simply put, I was so tired of hearing Draco rant about you I asked Pansy to let me join. The exact same thing happened on Weasley’s end.”
Harry blinked. “...Seriously?”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Yes, seriously. Anyways, I want to hear the rewards of our efforts. Did you guys finally shag?” Pansy asked bluntly. Harry’s face reddened.
“No, we didn’t!” Harry denied hotly. “We’ve, er…”
“We’ve gotten together,” Draco finished, huffing. “I do not appreciate the scheming, however! I thought we were friends!”
“Which is why we precisely did this,” Blaise said, raising an eyebrow. “Also, for our sanity. You’ve ranted so much about your stupid little crush on Potter I think I could describe his green eyes in my sleep.”
Harry snickered. “Hah! That’s hilarious! I can’t believe you did that, Malfoy! That’s—”
“Shut up Harry. I had to listen to you talk about how much you loved Malfoy’s hair and eyes for fifteen minutes straight. You have no space to talk.”
Draco smirked. “Hah! You did that, Potter?! That’s ridiculously embarrassing for you—”
“Are you stupid? You can’t talk either. Unless you want me to mention everything else you’ve said about Potter? Because in that case, I have many things to say—”
“No!” Draco interrupted, shaking his head frantically. “No, I think I’ve understood your point.”
Blaise grinned sharply.
“Good.”
—
“I have an idea.”
“Yes, Potter?”
“Hogsmeade weekend is coming up soon.”
“Astute observation, Potter,” Draco said dryly. Harry rolled his eyes.
“We should all go together, is what I’m saying.”
Hermione hummed in agreement. “That seems like a good idea, no?”
Blaise huffed. “If I must. You all are…decent enough to be my company, I suppose.”
“By that, he means he wants to,” Draco deadpanned. Blaise elbowed him harshly not a moment later.
“That does sound fun,” Ron mused. “As long as Harry and Malfoy don’t make out the whole time, I wouldn’t mind.”
Draco smirked. Harry flushed. Pansy snickered. “High hopes you’ve got there, Weasley.”
Ron sighed. “That is too much of an ask, isn’t it? I suppose I’ll deal with it, then.”
“That you will,” Draco said proudly. Ron went faintly green.
Harry sighed. “That you won’t.”
“Will.”
“Won’t.”
“Will.”
“Both of you shut the fuck up before I hex your mouths shut.”
—
Hogsmeade was bustling with students as usual, the normally harsh snow falling softly, creating a carpet of glistening white on the village ground. Hermione smiled at the sight.
“The village is absolutely gorgeous, as usual,” she remarked happily, skipping ahead. Pansy grinned for a moment before following right behind her.
“I see you have good taste in building design, Granger,” Pansy said, and Hermione beamed in response. Soon enough, a conversation flowed easily between the two of them, architectural terms being thrown left and right.
“Well, they’re certainly two peas in a pod,” Blaise commented.
Harry blinked in confusion. “Is it just me, or do I not understand half the terms they're saying?”
“Maybe you’re just an idiot, Potter ,” Draco said dryly. Harry rolled his eyes in response.
“How mature, Malfoy .”
“Yes, I very much am. Thank you for that acknowledgement,” Draco replied primly, smirking. Ron grimaced, shaking his head.
“I can’t deal with you two’s foreplay today. Please stop.”
Harry scowled, swatting Ron on the head lightly. “How many bloody times do I have to say it?! It’s not foreplay!”
Draco smirked, leaning in to whisper in Harry’s ear. “ Oh, Potter, but it can be. ” Harry rolled his eyes, but he was blushing deeply, turning away from Draco.
“ Ugh ,” Ron said, with feeling. “This is even worse.”
Blaise snickered. “Get used to it, Weasley.”
“Oi, are they still flirting?!” Pansy’s voice called from in front of the group. Ron sighed.
“Yes, Parkinson, they very much are. And it’s getting more bloody explicit.”
Pansy snickered. “My condolences, Weasley.”
“Let’s catch up with them,” Blaise said, turning toward Ron. “Either we can escape these two gay idiots, or they follow us and we can embarrass them with Pansy and Granger. Those two are silver-tongued enough too.”
Harry sputtered. “We aren’t that bad!”
Ron scoffed. “You very much are.” He turned to Blaise, grinning. “I like that idea, Zabini.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “We’re following you two.”
“You do that then,” Blaise said, smirking.
—
The group eventually decided on the Three Broomsticks for their first stop, sliding into a booth by one of the windows. Soon enough, Madam Rosmerta came to take their orders.
“I’ll have a butterbeer,” Harry said. Draco scoffed.
“What are you, four? I’ll have a firewhisky.”
“Wow, so mature, Draco,” Hermione deadpanned. “I’ll have a Butterbeer with extra foam, please.”
Blaise sighed. “Butterbeers for the rest of us, please. One with extra cinnamon, one with extra sugar, and one with a shot of firewhisky. Thanks.”
“And who got the Butterbeer with extra sugar?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. “That’s worse than Harry’s.”
“Me, and what of it?” Pansy quipped in response. “And who’s the one that got drunk out of his mind after his first glass of watered down firewhisky?”
Draco scowled and Ron snickered. “ Please tell me the story behind that.”
Pansy grinned. “Well since you’ve asked so nicely, Weasley—”
“No, absolutely not—”
“—he got pissed after a quidditch match because he lost to Potter—”
“Pansy if you don’t be quiet —”
“—and spent the entire time he was pissed ranting about, you guessed it, Potter.”
Draco flushed deeply, scowling at Pansy. How dare she expose him like this! “I’ll have you know my tolerance has improved, and I’ve come to appreciate the burn of firewhisky!”
“That’s kind of adorable, Draco,” Harry said, laughing. Draco sputtered.
“No, it isn’t! Nothing about me is ‘adorable’!”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Get used to it. He will say stuff like this.”
Draco pouted. Harry smiled sweetly. “That’s even cuter.”
“Shut it, Potter.”
Harry did not and instead kissed the pout right off Draco’s face.
—
The next place the group made their way to was Honeydukes, much to Draco’s glee.
Pansy oohed at the tall rows of just-stocked candy on the shelves. “Isn’t this something?”
“It is quite the sight when they’re just restocked,” Harry said in agreement. “Look, there’s even a new section of chocolate!”
“Oh, there is!” Pansy exclaimed in agreement. She surveyed the group, raising an eyebrow in question. “Where’s Weasley, though?”
Blaise scoffed. “In a place with food? Oh, he’s gone.”
Hermione snickered.
“All of these are exquisite!” Draco remarked, eyes sparkling at the rows of chocolate as they made their way through the new section.“I’ll need to taste test all of them.”
“And I’m the one who acts four?” Harry asked dryly. Draco scowled, and Ron snickered.
“He has a point, Malfoy.”
“Shut it Weasley. Like you don’t stuff your face every meal.”
“Oi! Harry, control your boyfriend.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Believe me, I’ve tried. For the last eight years.”
Draco sniffed primly. “And it most certainly didn’t work.”
Harry smiled softly. “No, it really didn’t.”
—
The group eventually exited Honeydukes, satisfied with their many drinks and purchases from the excursion.
“We should do this next Hogsemeade weekend, after Yule break,” Pansy remarked, shuffling through her bag of sweets. Blaise hummed in agreement, nicking a Peppermint Humbug from her bag.
“This was rather fun. Even if Draco and Potter were being disgusting the whole time.”
Hermione grinned in response. “Wasn’t it fun? Ignoring those two, of course.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “What is this, ‘bully Draco and Harry’ day? Honestly…”
Draco scoffed. “Ignore them, Harry. They’re simply jealous of our amazing relationship.”
Ron sighed warily. “Trust me. I’m really not.”
“Oi! Malfoy! Potter!”
Draco stopped, turning to face a wide-eyed Hufflepuff boy who couldn’t be past his fourth-year. The rest of the group watched in interest, a few students around them pausing at the interaction.
“Yes?”
“Is it true you guys are dating? Like, actually dating? Like, kissing dating? Like, two men dating?”
Harry blinked. “Er, yes? I mean, we weren’t when the article came out, but…”
“Recent developments,” Draco finished. “Recent developments have occurred.”
The boy’s eyes lit up. “Wow! Sick! I can’t believe gay people are real! I have to tell everyone!”
Draco blinked. “What in Salzar’s name is that supposed to mean?”
Pansy sighed. “Draco, that means that a new Skeeter article is going to come out very very soon.”
“Oh Merlin. I need to owl my parents.”
“That you do.”
—
Dear Mother and Father,
I am writing to inform you of some recent developments that have occurred. I preface this letter by saying this may be a stark contrast to my previous attitude.
As I have said in my last letter, I have recently discovered that I am queer. Something I did not mention was that it was because of Potter I had made this discovery. Throughout these past few months after the article, I have discovered that my emotions toward Potter were a lot more complex than I first expected. With some pushing from Pansy and Blaise, I realized that I fancied him.
Not too long after, I discovered that he reciprocated such emotions. The discovery was rather undignified, however, as Granger, Weasley, Pansy, and Blaise had crafted an absolutely ridiculous plan for us to get together. Nevertheless, it worked, and Potter and I are now in a relationship.
I understand you both have said you would support me if this was the case. I am hoping, as your son, that this is still true, as I imagine this confirmation may be a shock for the two of you.
Please let me know your thoughts.
Sincerely,
Your son, Draco
—
Draco ,
As your mother, I am informing you that your imagination is incorrect. Your confirmation is not a shock for the two of us.
Your father says that despite his hopes otherwise, he completely expected something like this ever since receiving your letters at the start of eighth-year and seeing that almost all of them were about Potter. Interestingly enough, he only believed the article to be incorrect because he did not think the development would happen that fast. He believed you were too emotionally dense for it to happen that quickly.
As for your concerns, simply do not be. From me and your father, we still love you as our son. Even though Lucius is completely against this, why don’t you invite Potter over for Yule? It will be an enlightening experience to get to know him as your partner.
Much love,
Your mother
—
Draco decided to ignore the first half of the letter. He did, however, take the opportunity to bring up the invitation when he was studying with Pansy and Harry in the library one weekend.
“Your parents? During Yule?! ”
Draco sighed. “Yes Harry. Yule break is very soon, and my mother has invited you to come to our house for Yule dinner. She says she wishes to get to know you as my partner.”
Harry chewed his lip nervously. “I don’t know. I don’t know your mother very well, and I don’t think your father likes me very much.”
“He doesn’t,” Draco deadpanned, completely oblivious to Harry’s face dropping in fear. “It will be fine, though. Mother is very curious about you, and I suspect she will find you rather endearing. Father might verbally grill you a bit, though.”
Harry sighed. Pansy snickered.
“He also might make fun of you the entire dinner.”
Harry sighed harder.
“He’ll also probably start critiquing your hair.”
Harry sighed even harder.
“Oh, and if you don’t use your utensils properly he might hex you.”
Harry sighed even even harder.
“Oh, and—”
“Oh for fucks sake!” Harry cried, and stomped out of the library. Draco tilted his head in confusion.
“How odd. What did I do wrong?”
“You’re fucking hopeless.”
“Shut up Pansy.”
—
Draco was equally nervous and excited about the dinner with Harry and his parents. Nervous because, quite frankly, he had absolutely no idea how things would play out. Excited because he knew one thing for a fact—he would be getting the entertainment of his life when his father verbally grilled Harry.
The moment Draco flooed into his home and saw his parents waiting for him, his face broke into a smile.
“Father! Mother!” Draco exclaimed, hastily approaching Narcissa and Lucius, who looked perfectly put together, as usual.
Just to get hit right over the head with Lucius’s cane.
“Ow! Whatever was that for!” Draco whined, rubbing his head.
“You told me to knock some sense into you if you ever dated Harry Potter in your letter.”
“I-I, well, I was rather unaware when I wrote that letter!” Draco sputtered, face beet red from embarrassment.
The only response his father graced him with was a deadpan stare.
“Don’t be too harsh on him, dear,” Narcissa soothed from beside Lucius, an amused glint in her eye. Lucius huffed.
“As you wish, dear. When is Potter getting here again? Is he late? How undignified. Draco, you should break up—”
“He’s arriving in a minute, father.”
“Hmph.”
—
It was approximately half a second after he exited the floo to Malfoy Manor that things started to go south.
Because of course, he fell directly on his face.
“How…dignified, Potter,” said a snide voice from above him, unmistakably Lucius Malfoy. Draco snickered, and Harry sighed. Not even his boyfriend could save him from this one.
“Er, apologies,” Harry said, hastily getting up and dusting off floo powder from his clothes, his face flaming red. Of course, he had to make such a poor first impression.
“No worries, Mr. Potter,” Mrs. Malfoy said politely, an amused smile on her face. “Flooing can be tricky.”
“Uh, you can call me Harry.”
“Harry, then,” continued Mrs. Malfoy, still so polite and kind. Harry offered her a tentative smile.
“Very well,” Lucius sneered, not polite at all. “Let us make our way to the dining room. Now…may you tell me about yourself, Potter?”
Harry felt a sense of dread shoot through him. “Erm, sure.”
“What career do you plan to adopt in the future? What are your backups? What credentials do you plan to get for them with your education at Hogwarts?” Lucius asked smoothly, looking at Harry as if he genuinely expected him to come up with a proper response.
“Uh.”
Lucius raised an eyebrow, looking down at Harry condescendingly. “No? Haven’t even planned that yet? Shame. And your financial plans and investments for the future? Have you looked into Gringotts’s plans for your inheritance?”
“Gringotts has that?” Harry blurted out, astonished.
Evidently, that wasn’t the right answer, which was made very clear by Lucius’s sneer in response. “Yes, Potter, they do. It seems…not that either? How interesting. You seem rather uninformed about your plans for the future. Well, how about—”
“Father, leave him alone,” Draco interjected dryly, and Harry was so relieved if Draco’s parents weren’t here he’d kiss him.
Lucius rolled his eyes. “As you wish, Draco.”
Harry glanced towards Mrs. Malfoy, whose lips twitched upward at the interaction. What is it with Malfoy’s and finding Harry embarrassing himself funny?!
“We have arrived,” Mrs. Malfoy announced when the four of them approached a lavish dining room. She offered Harry a small smile. “Please make yourself at home.”
Harry tentatively took a seat next to Draco. He looked down at the table and felt several years fly off his lifespan at the number of different forks that were there.
“What the bloody hell do you need this many forks for?!” Harry hissed, glancing at Draco. Draco raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“For dining, Potter,” Lucius said, evidently having heard Harry. Harry flushed.
“Erm, yeah,” he responded lamely. Lucius rolled his eyes.
“Eat with what you’re comfortable with, dear,” Mrs. Malfoy said, smiling. “Don’t mind Lucius. He’s simply been waiting to verbally embarrass you.”
“Narcissa!”
“What is it, dear?” Mrs. Malfoy asked, turning to look at her husband, blinking innocently. Lucius sighed and grumbled something under his breath. A moment later, he snapped his fingers, and the most lavish dinner Harry’s ever seen in his life appeared in front of his very eyes.
“The house elves have shown off,” Mrs. Malfoy noted faintly, smiling softly. Harry blinked.
“That is…a lot of food,” Harry said. Lucius sneered.
“Thank you very much for that commentary, Potter, I wouldn’t have been able to tell without it,” Lucius quipped instantly as if he couldn’t help it. Harry sighed. Mrs. Malfoy giggled softly.
Might as well eat, Harry thought, glancing down at the many complex-looking utensils next to his plate. Where does he even start with those?! Harry shot a subtle glance at Draco, who was using one of the two-pronged forks for…dissecting the food?
Rich people, Harry thought, resolutely ignoring the fact that he was also, in fact, rich. He gingerly picked up a vaguely normal-looking fork and started to eat.
“Oh! This is really good!” Harry said genuinely, blinking down at the food. Mrs. Malfoy smiled.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, Harry. It’s from—”
“It’s a five-hundred galleon meal, Potter, I would think even you would have more words to appreciate—”
“Please don’t interrupt me, Lucius,” Mrs. Malfoy said, her calm tone a massive contrast to the steely glare she had just fixed on her husband. Lucius sighed, still glaring at Harry bitterly. Draco huffed out a laugh.
“This is a daily occurrence, I’ll have you know,” Draco whispered.
Harry bit back a grin. “ Honestly? After seeing them interact, I didn’t expect anything else.”
After the meal, which mostly consisted of talking between Draco, Harry, and Mrs. Malfoy (and a few quips from Lucius), the dinner officially ended.
“You’re welcome back anytime, dear,” Mrs. Malfoy said, patting Harry gently on the cheek and enveloping him in a short hug. Harry smiled, nodding in response.
“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” he said and found that he genuinely meant it.
A few moments later, Lucius turned toward him, and Harry stilled, preparing himself for the worst.
“It was… nice …to meet you, Potter,” Lucius said, sounding genuine if the ‘nice’ had meant something very different. Harry nodded in response, honestly not trusting himself to be able to say anything without getting verbally grilled again.
He watched with interest as Draco exchanged goodbyes with his parents, smiling softly as he hugged them one final time and they both departed through the floo.
The moment they arrived back at Hogwarts, Harry turned to Draco.
“I don’t think your dad likes me very much.”
Draco sighed.
—
Harry chewed his lip, looking at the kitchen door warily. He could hear Ron and Mrs. Weasley’s voice from the other side, chatting away.
He can do this though. He survived Yule dinner with the Malfoy’s. He can do this. Harry took a deep breath and entered.
“Harry dear! You’re back! How was dinner with Malfoy’s parents? You two have become quite close friends, haven’t you?”
Ron’s sympathetic wince at Mrs. Weasley’s word choice did nothing to quell Harry’s nerves.
“That’s right!” Mr. Weasley said, popping his head around the corner from another room. “I heard from Ron that you two have become good friends. Even Lucius has been cordial to me in the Ministry, oddly enough…”
Harry smiled wanly, and slowly turned to Ron, hoping his glare could signify how much he wanted to hex him right now. Ron gulped nervously.
“Well, yes…erm, about that.”
Mrs. Weasley stilled in the kitchen from where she was sorting pots and pans and turned to face Harry. “Yes, dear?”
“Me and Draco…well, we—”
“Hi Mum!” Ginny said cheerfully, as she burst into the kitchen, grinning at Harry when she saw her. “Oh, hi Harry! What were you saying about you and Malfoy?”
Harry sighed. Ginny knew they were together!
“Er. Draco and I, we’re d—”
“Mum! D’ya know where— oh, hiya Harry!” George said, from where he ran into the kitchen. “What were you saying about you and Malfoy?”
Harry groaned. This was just ridiculous. They both knew they were dating! Ginny had told George!
“We’re—”
“Mum! When’s Dad—oh, hi, Harry, mate. What were you telling Mum?” Charlie asked, Bill following right behind him.
Harry couldn’t even blame them, because they didn’t know he and Draco were dating! Ginny snickered.
“Harry, dear, whatever it is, it sounds important. Am I right?” Mrs. Weasley said, eyes sympathetic. Harry hesitated for a moment before nodding.
“Yes. It…it’s about my future, to an extent, I guess.”
“Very well. Harry, I want you to know that we’re all your family. Whatever it is, we’ll support you,” Mrs Weasley assured, smiling at him and patting his arm softly. Harry took a deep breath.
“I’m dating Draco.”
Mrs. Weasley’s face dropped in shock. George and Ginny shared a mischievous glance. There was a crash from where Mr. Weasley was working behind the kitchen door. Bill and Charlie’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“You’re…you’re dating the Malfoy boy,” Mrs. Weasley repeated, blinking in shock. Harry nodded, feeling mildly uncomfortable.
“Uh, yeah. He’s changed after the war…and, we had…developments in our relationship, I guess.”
“But…you and Ginny?” Mrs. Weasley asked, still sounding confused. Harry sighed.
“Yeah, er, it didn’t really work out after the War?”
“Didn’t work out,” Mrs. Weasley repeated, tone blank. “But you and the Malfoy boy did?”
Harry winced, feeling his heart sink, barely noticing Mr. Weasley enter the room. No, this was going all wrong! Mrs. Weasley was going to hate him—
“Don’t be like that Mum,” Ron interjected. “I can vouch. Malfoy may still be a bit of a prat—”
“You aren’t helping, Ron.” Ginny deadpanned. Ron scowled at her.
“Let me finish! I’m saying, he isn’t bigoted like he was before! He’s just a bit of a…well, yeah, he’s a pillock. But he’s not like he was before the War. He’s not a bad person anymore, Mum.”
Mrs. Weasley sighed, biting her lip in thought. “I…I don’t understand it. I don’t understand why you’d do this—”
Harry felt his heart drop. This was it, then. He was—
“—however, I…I can’t say that I am not willing to give this boy a chance,” Mrs. Weasley finished, looking at Harry and smiling, though it was a bit weak. “I still love you as much as I do my own children, Harry. I want you to always remember that.”
Harry blinked in shock for a moment before swiftly crossing the kitchen to give her a hug. Mrs. Weasley tutted, patting his head softly. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you the impression otherwise.”
Harry pulled away from the hug and smiled at her. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”
She smiled in return. Mr. Weasley coughed.
“So, Malfoy? That must be a long story.”
Harry sighed. “It most definitely is,” he responded, then turned to Ron.
“Why don’t you ask Ron about it? I’m certain he has a lot of insight on it,” Harry continued, glaring at Ron pointedly. George snickered from the background.
Mr. Weasley’s eyebrows raised, and he turned to Ron, seemingly getting the hint of what Harry was saying. “I’ll be sure to, Harry. Don’t worry.”
Ron gulped nervously. Harry smirked.
“Oh, and Harry dear?” Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen.
Harry turned to face her. “Yes?”
She stared at him for a beat before smiling.
“Why don’t you invite Draco over for Christmas dinner?”
—
Draco,
You won’t believe it! I told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and the rest of the Weasley family by extension, about our relationship. It was clear they were a bit hesitant at first, especially Mrs. Weasley, but I think they’ve come around!
Mrs. Weasley has invited you to the Burrow for Christmas dinner. Before you whine and harp about having to socialize with Weasleys, if you want to make a good impression on the woman who’s basically raised me since my Hogwarts years, you’ll suck it up.
Love you!
-Harry
—
Potter,
I would like to start this letter by saying your penmanship is appalling.
As for your second request, I suppose I am willing to attend this event. I will have you know I will not be interacting with the Weasleys further than being cordial and making fun of Ron.
I’ll see you in a few days.
Sincerely,
Draco
—
The moment Draco apparated outside of the Burrow, Harry did not miss the opportunity to make fun of him.
“Sincerely? Sincerely ? That’s how you sign off a letter to your boyfriend?!”
“Oh, shut it, Potter,” Draco sniffed, turning his head like the dramatic prat he was. “Perhaps, if you learned appropriate penmanship—”
“I’ll start misspelling things on purpose to piss you off.”
“Fuck you, Potter.”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh at Draco’s sneer. The prat was genuinely peeved that Harry didn’t know how to write letters as Purebloods did. He was so bloody dramatic .
“Whatever,” Draco said, shaking his head. “I suppose it can’t be helped. Will we be going in now?”
Harry nodded, reaching out to grab Draco’s hand. “Yeah! Ever since I told them about you, they’ve been wanting to meet you. Obviously they aren’t really showing it, but they’ve been curious. They haven’t seen you since after the War, so they really only knew you when you were…”
“A bigoted pillock?” Draco suggested, raising an eyebrow.
Harry grinned sheepishly. “Yes, that. You’re still a pillock though.”
“So mature, Potter.”
“Ah, there you are!”
Harry immediately recognized Mrs. Weasley’s voice, and he looked up to see her waving cheerfully at him. He smiled, walking to the entrance of the house.
“Nice to see you again, Harry dear,” she said, enveloping him in a hug. She pulled back, now looking at Draco a little warily. Harry felt his stomach twist from nerves.
Please get along, please get along —
“Nice to see you, Mr. Malfoy,” Mrs. Weasley said cordially. Draco blinked, looking slightly astonished at the title.
“Draco, please,” he responded politely. “Thank you for inviting me over for Christmas dinner. I’m looking forward to meeting everyone.”
Harry internally sighed in relief. Mrs. Weasley smiled, seeming a little less guarded at Draco’s polite response. Harry couldn’t help but grin.
Draco and Harry entered the Burrow hand in hand, and Harry let out a grin at the interior. The inside was decorated with various Christmas lights, mistletoes floating around the house and a small charmed Santa flying through the air. Draco blinked in shock from next to him.
“This is…different to how I expected,” Draco said, voice disbelieving. “It’s very…homey. Is Hermione here as well?”
Harry grinned. “She is! And that’s the Weasleys for you,” he said, and they stepped in to join the party.
Harry couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of where he was right now. The Burrow was so warm and full of love, people bustling about everywhere he looked. Even Draco didn't seem out of place, a small soft smile on his face.
Eventually, everyone sat down at the table, and the Christmas dinner was set on the tabletop. Harry smiled, seeing it was the same as he remembered before. This year, however, the energy was different around the table, and it was for a very specific reason.
“So, Malfoy,” Bill Weasley started, and Draco’s eyes snapped up to meet his gaze. “How did you and Harry happen?”
Harry sighed, preparing for the long-winded explanation, but instead, Draco smiled sharply. “Have you asked your dear brother Ronald?”
Harry blinked at him in shock before snickering softly, George joining not a moment later, and even Mr. Weasley smiled, no doubt getting the reference after questioning Ron. Draco blinked, seeming shocked at the positive reaction. Bill raised an eyebrow and turned to Ron.
“Well?”
Ron huffed, his face reddening at the attention. “Well, they were oblivious idiots, so me, Hermione, Blaise and Pansy had to plan something to get them together. What else were we supposed to do!?”
“...Wait for them to get together themselves?” Charlie suggested. Ron’s eyes widened.
“No,” he declared fiercely.
“...No?” Bill asked, raising an eyebrow. Ron shook his head vigorously.
“No. You guys didn’t see it. The pining— ”
Harry blushed. “Okay, that's enough— “
“—the amount of times he talked about Malfoy—”
“Ron seriously—”
“—he wouldn’t shut up for hours on end— “
“Ron!” Harry yelled, face flaming red now. Ron’s lips twitched upward. That prick! Was this revenge from before?
There was silence at the table before everyone burst into laughter. Even Mrs. Weasley was smiling softly. Harry shook his head disbelievingly, but he was smiling too.
“He’s right, though,” Hermione continued, and Harry groaned.
“Not you too!”
Hermione raised an eyebrow, but she was also smiling. “I think I deserve it after all those months of pining.”
Hermione turned to address the table. “You guys might want to familiarize yourself with a ‘Malfoy-tangent’ in preparation for what’s about to come.”
“Seriously, ‘Mione?” Harry said, sighing. Draco snickered from next to him.
“Yes seriously,” she deadpanned in response. “And don’t laugh, Draco. You’re next. I heard all about how bad your pining was from Pansy.”
Harry grinned into his hand, and Draco bristled nervously.
“Anyways, as I was saying, Harry always went on these horrible tangents about how much he fancied Draco…”
Despite his embarrassment, Harry smiled at the interaction. There wasn’t a single tense moment or awkward silence so far. Everything just seemed so…perfect.
Harry turned toward Draco, who was looking at him with warmth. Harry grinned at him.
From under the table, Draco grabbed his hand and didn’t let go for the rest of the meal.
After dinner had finished, everyone crowded around the Weasley’s living room for presents. Mrs. Weasley had handed out her trademark Weasley sweater. When it came to Draco, she paused for a moment before handing him an emerald green sweater with a silver “D” stitched onto it. Draco blinked in surprise and Harry gaped in shock. Truthfully…he had no idea she was going to do that.
“I know there has been a lot of history between our families,” Mrs. Weasley said, eyes clouding over slightly. “But I would be a fool to turn down the opportunity to make amends. And, if I may be bold, from what I’ve seen, you and Harry are…well you two seem perfect for each other.”
Harry let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. “Mrs. Weasley…”
“Happy Christmas, you two,” she said and smiled. Draco smiled back, and this time, he looked like he couldn’t help it. “Oh, and one more thing, Draco, darling— “
Draco blinked at the title.
“—next year, do invite your and Harry’s friends—the Parkinson girl and Zabini boy.”
Draco gaped in shock for a moment before grinning. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”
Mrs. Weasley smiled in response. “It’s no problem dear. I’m very glad you and Harry have each other.”
After presents had been handed out, and the Weasleys had broken up, people mingling in every corner of the house, Harry couldn’t find Draco. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of platinum blonde hair by the open glass door to the backyard that he found him. Harry grinned, quietly walking up to him from behind.
“So, enjoying yourself?” Harry asked, gently wrapping his arms around Draco’s torso. Draco hummed.
“It’s…decent,” Draco said, his voice faraway, grey eyes focused on the backyard, which was occupied by a few different people. Harry chuckled quietly as he saw Ginny levitate a garden gnome and hover it above George’s hair. Harry sighed, then planted a soft kiss on Draco’s cheek.
“So in your language, you love it. Got it,” Harry responded cheekily. Draco’s lips twitched upward.
“I always love being with you,” Draco said softly, honestly . Harry blinked in shock for a moment before smiling, tipping his head upward to meet Draco’s lips in a soft kiss.
And in the background, a few feet away, Ron groaned tiredly.
“Merlin, this is even worse when they were pining for each other.”
The End
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