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Harry catches himself staring at Malfoy more often than he’d care to admit. It’s not like he means to, it’s just that Malfoy sits directly across from him in every class they have together. Which is all of their classes. Harry hates that he ends up spacing out while looking in Malfoy’s direction, so it looks like he’s staring directly into Malfoy. Every single time Harry catches himself, Malfoy’s smirking at him, and Harry always darts his gaze away from the blonde across from him.
It’s not Harry’s fault that Malfoy has a way of capturing his attention in every room they’re in, alright? If he could help it, he wouldn’t do it, and that’s that. It’s not his fault that Malfoy’s hair sits perfectly on his face, nor is it his fault that Malfoy has a perfect face. Harry only noticed how perfect Malfoy was recently; he swears to anyone that will listen that Draco got some sort of cosmetic spells done on himself over the summer. How does he look that good?
His smile entraps Harry whenever he flashes his pearly white teeth, and his grey eyes beckon Harry into his gaze. Harry hates it. It makes his skin hot, his heart race, and his palms sweaty. But, that’s only because he hates Malfoy, and he shouldn’t even be focused on Malfoy. He’s not attracted to Malfoy, he’s jealous. That’s all it is for Harry, and that’s all it will ever be. Jealousy.
Two weeks after Harry noticed his staring habit, Snape is lecturing the class about; who even cares? Harry is too busy staring at Malfoy anyway, he doesn’t even hear Snape assigning partners to the class. He has no clue what they’re even doing in class, let alone what the project is. He hears Ron mutter something next to him, but he can’t make out what he said. Harry’s ears pick up one sentence from Snape, and his heart plummets when he registers what the professor just said.
“Potter and Malfoy,” Snape drawls on, although Harry had stopped listening. Across the room, Malfoy grins at him. Harry brings his hands to his face, digs them into his eyes, and bites back a groan. All he can do is hope Malfoy was paying attention to the directions, because Harry wasn’t.
*****
Later, after they’ve all gotten into pairs, Malfoy is preparing the ingredients needed for the potion. At least one of us was paying attention, Harry thinks as Malfoy reads over the list once more, double-checking that he has everything. Harry glances over at Malfoy, who’s eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. Before Harry can stop himself, he’s talking, “What’s up? You look confused.”
Malfoy’s face turns blank, and he turns to face Harry directly, “It’s nothing you can help me with anyway, Potter. You were too busy gawking to listen to a single word Snape said, am I right?” Harry’s jaw drops, and he’s stunned into silence instantly. He’s never been clocked that fast by anyone, not even Malfoy himself. Malfoy takes his silence as a yes, and he mutters, “Yeah, that’s what I thought, Potter.”
Harry watches Malfoy work next to him, watches as he grabs each ingredient, measures them, and cuts them down into the right sizes. It’s impressive, Harry thinks to himself as Malfoy bites his lip while he’s lost in thought. Harry’s eyes drop down to where Draco’s top teeth are digging into his bottom lip, and his mouth goes dry suddenly. Malfoy glares at him, and Harry jumps out of his thoughts.
“Did you need help?” Harry asks, since he wants to help, even if it’s in small amounts. He can’t let Malfoy do all the work here, otherwise he won’t get the credit for the assignment. He can already feel Snape burning holes into his head with his eyes, and he does not need to get detention for not participating again. Snape’s detentions are the worst, especially for Harry.
Malfoy sighs in defeat, “If you want to help that badly, can you get some more bubotuber pus? I didn’t grab enough for the potion.” Harry hums in agreement and quickly jumps out of his seat to get it. He makes his way over to the cabinet where bubotuber pus is, and swings it open. He’s hit with a smell he never wants to smell again…almost like rotten eggs and puke mixed together. He spots the bubotuber pus on the top shelf, and he’s just barely able to reach it. His fingertips brush the jar, and he knocks it forward just enough to grab it before it falls. A rush of triumph flows through him, especially when he turns around to see Malfoy watching him from their desk.
He puts the jar onto their desk, and sits back down next to Malfoy. Malfoy has his nose deep into the book they’re following the recipe off of, carefully checking that they’re doing this right. Once he seems satisfied that everything else is right, he reaches for the jar of bubotuber pus, and then pauses before he opens it. He makes direct eye contact with Harry as he says, “Thanks, Harry.” Harry holds eye contact with Malfoy as he smiles, “No problem, you’re doing all the work anyway, right? Least I can do.”
Malfoy chuckles lightly at Harry’s comment, “Yeah, I don’t trust you to not blow up the potion again, so…”
“That was one time!”
*****
They get a perfect score in Potions, and Harry owes it all to Malfoy. As much as he hates to admit it, potions is not his subject, and if Malfoy wasn’t his partner, he would’ve had it blow up in his face. Malfoy is top of their Potions class, although Harry wouldn’t be suprised if he was the best in the entire school. He knows just what to do and how to correct things without even glancing at the books they’re given. He has the most common recipes memorized, and Harry can’t even remember what bubotuber pus even is without reminders. Even now, he can’t recall what the hell it comes from or what it’s used for. Malfoy would, however, and Harry has to give him some credit for that.
Now that the war is over, Harry doesn’t have any hard feelings against Malfoy. He understands how much pressure the both of them were; both of them aiming to kill the other despite not wanting to. They were almost in the same boat, Harry would say. Harry hates every Death Eater that walks the Earth, except for Malfoy. In his mind, Malfoy never wanted that life for himself. Harry will never forget their fight in the bathroom, how scared Malfoy was. How his hands shook as they pointed their wands at each other, how his confident facade slipped, just for a second, and Harry saw who Malfoy truly was. His spells were weaker than they usually were that day, and since then, Harry assumed that Malfoy was just a kid who was forced into a life he didn’t want.
Harry could relate to that. Before he had a working memory he had expectations to live up to, and everybody knew his name. Malfoy had expectations lined up for him before he was even born. The entire Wizarding World watched them each with careful eyes, observed their every move. So, in a way, Harry doesn’t have any hatred toward Malfoy. When he really thinks about it, he doesn’t think he ever has harborded negative feelings toward the blonde.
All of that is beside the point, however, because Harry is staring. Like he has been for weeks at this rate. Despite the fact that Malfoy has directly called him out on it, Harry can’t stop himself. It’s like staring at Malfoy is cocaine and Harry’s an addict. The way his lips form around his teeth as he talks to his friends next to him, the way his eyes glint in the dimly lit rooms of Hogwarts, and the way his silver hair shines as light hits it from different directions.
Malfoy is like candy to him, and Harry doesn’t want to get off his sugar rush. Harry has noticed that recently, Malfoy has been staring back, being as bold as to hold eye contact with Harry. He’s started to grin and smirk at Harry as Harry’s eyes scan across the blonde on the other side of the room. Harry’s grades are slipping because of how much time he’s spending staring at the gorgeous blonde across the room. Okay, Harry admits that he may have a small crush on Malfoy. Or, well, a rather large crush on Malfoy. He’s not jealous, he never has been. It was all a lie to himself because he wasn’t able to accept that he might have a crush on his enemy. Not that Harry considers him an enemy anymore, but still. He can’t just go from a life-long rivalry with someone to being boyfriends who are in love in what? Four months?
Not to mention how much it’ll ruin their reputations. They both want to be Auror’s, and they won’t be able to do that if Harry does something stupid. He’ll either have to get over his stupid crush or keep it to himself until they’re both successful. Harry only hopes he’ll get over Malfoy before they both get jobs, because if he doesn’t, then he knows he’s going to be miserable for the rest of his life. With how handsome Malfoy is, he’ll have girls and guys climbing all over him at pubs. Harry feels sick just thinking about it.
*****
Due to the fact that they both want to work the the Ministry, they have Apparition together as their last class of the day. Apparition is the only class Harry doesn’t get lost in his head over Malfoy, because him and Malfoy are often in different rooms as they practice Appariting. Today is different, however, because the second room is being used by a third-year class. Why the third-years get a room over the eighth-years, Harry doesn’t understand. But, it’s out of his hands anyway, so he’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it.
Apparition, surprisingly, goes by easily for Harry. Malfoy was on the opposite side of the room, and Harry couldn’t see him for the duration of the class. As soon as class was dismissed, Harry rushes out of the room. Or, he tries to, at least. He stops as he feels a hand pull on the hood of his robes, and he’s ready to tell some sixth-year to fuck off when he turns around to see-
“Malfoy? What do you want?” Harry asks, his voice way more hostile than he intended it to be. Malfoy shrugs and drags Harry out of the classroom by the sleeve of his robes. Harry follows, since he has no other choice, and tries not to think about what Malfoy is going to do. Is he going to kill Harry? Does he want to fight? What the fuck is he playing at right now? Is this a sick joke? What the fuck- Malfoy pushes Harry into the Room of Requirment and now Harry’s more confused than he was before. Why did Malfoy bring him here? Won’t someone see them and make up some nasty rumor? What was Malfoy thinking?
“Okay, I’m sorry for dragging you in here without asking-”
“Yeah, apology not accepted, thanks.”
“-But I needed to talk to you, okay?”
“Oh boy, what did I do now? Are you gonna call me a git and stun me?”
“Why are you staring at me all the fucking time, Potter? It’s fucking weird.” Malfoy finally spits out, and Harry’s mouth clamps shut with an audible click . What is Harry supposed to say to that? Sorry, Malfoy, it’s because I have a big, fat crush on you! Because that will go over so well.
“Well…I..” Harry starts, but suddenly his mouth is dry and he can’t get any more words out.
“Well? What is it, Potter? Seriously?” Malfoy’s sass rings through his voice, and to Harry, his voice sounds like honey. Harry could listen to Malfoy talk all day if he could, the way words roll off his tongue, the way Harry’s name rolls off the blonde’s tongue.
“You’re hot, okay? Merlin, Malfoy, what the fuck did you do over the summer? Hit the gym?” Harry blurts out, without willing himself to do so. Harry sees Malfoy tense up in front of him, and Harry turns to exit the room as fast as he possibly can. This is the most mortifying situation Harry has ever been in, and he was once with Cho Chang in this same room. He once led an entire class for Potronus’ in here, and now he’s confessing his feelings for his enemy? What has his life become?
“I didn’t do anything over the summer, Potter. Maybe you just realized something you didn’t before,” Malfoy’s voice floats through the thick air of the room, and then his words slam into Harry like a ton of bricks. Harry realizes, all at once, that he’s always felt this way about Malfoy. Since they first met at the Dining Hall entrance, from the very first words, he’s been smitten with Malfoy. Every waking thought he’s had has involved Malfoy since he was eleven, but Harry never thought anything of it. He thought that maybe, that’s just what having a rival was like. People constantly thought of ways to talk to their rival and bug them, right?
However, Harry realizes that those feelings were never normal. He assumed they were all this time because he never had a crush on anyone before. There was Cho, and there was Ginny, but after both of them, he realized he didn’t like girls, so they don't count. He has not felt this way for anyone, because he’s always felt this way with Malfoy. Malfoy with his stupid, slicked back hair. Malfoy with his grin, his voice, and his eyes. He searches for Malfoy in every crowd he’s been in, he searches for blonde hair everywhere he goes.
Holy shit, how long has he felt this way? How much time has he wasted by convincing himself he hated Malfoy? Maybe, if he wasn’t an idiot, their lives would be different. Although, it’s too late to change the past. There’s no use in dwelling on the past when he’s living now, in the present. With the boy he fell in love with at eleven right in front of him, why think about the past?
Malfoy notices his silence, and because he’s Malfoy, he comments on it, “You realize it now, right? How we’ve been dancing around each other for seven years? How I fell in love with you, and you fell in love with me?”
Harry, with his jaw nearly to the floor, nods stupidly. Malfoy chuckles, steps forward, and locks their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss. Harry knows that nothing will ever top Malfoy’s kiss, even if it’s only their first kiss. Harry only hopes it’s their first kiss of many as he brings his hands up to rest behind Malfoy’s neck, and Malfoy leans into the kiss more. Their hips are flush together, and Harry can’t imagine himself being happier.
When they pull apart for air, Malfoy mutters, “Call me Draco now, since we’re dating, alright? It’d be weird to have my boyfriend call me by my last name, wouldn’t it?”
Harry nods, “Call me Harry, then.”
They both smile and say in unison:
“Okay, Harry.”
“Okay, Draco.”
They chuckle simultaneously, and then they pull each other back in for another kiss. Harry thinks that this is the best year he’s ever going to have at this school, and he’s going to have the best life ever. He’s already thinking of the ring he’s going to buy Malfoy after this, their wedding, and the pets they’re going to adopt and call their children.
He never thought he was going to settle down, but he’s sure as hell ready to now.