Work Text:
“Draco? Are you home?” Pansy asks. Draco sighs and looks towards his door, which swings open only moments later. Pansy has never been one to think about privacy and personal space. Draco has just barely learned to tolerate it. “Oh good, you’re here. Are you busy?” Pansy asks. Draco puts his pencil down and raises an eyebrow.
“You could knock, you know? What if I was wanking?” Draco says. Pansy waves him off and plops herself on his bed like she owns the place. He grimaces slightly when the blankets wrinkle under her and her clothes that have been outside all day.
“Are you busy?” Pansy asks, ignoring him completely.
“I live with heathens,” Draco mumbles, “my answer depends on why you want to know.” Pansy grins mischievously and it makes Draco’s stomach stir. Last time she grinned like that, they ended up having to take care of a dozen puppies for a week. He will never dog sit again, he still shivers when he thinks about all the shit he had to clean up.
“Aw don’t be like that,” Pansy says, “whatever homework you’re doing can’t be that important.” Draco looks at her incredulously and all she does is laugh softly.
“It’s my thesis paper,” Draco says, “I’d argue that’s quite important for my graduation.” Pansy rolls his eyes and slumps slightly.
“You’re such a plank,” Pansy says, “anyway. You’re coming to a frat party with me tonight.” Draco’s jaw actually drops slightly at that. It’s not like he’s a prude, he’s gone to parties and clubs and he doesn’t mind a night out on the town, but a frat party? Yeah he’d quite literally rather do anything else.
“You’re joking, right?” Draco says. Pansy shakes her head, that stupid grin coming back.
“Weren’t you just complaining about your social life the other day?” Pansy says, “you could meet so many people.” Draco has never once spoken to Pansy about his social life. But he has spoken to his mother about it.
“Were you eavesdropping on my phone call with my mother?” Draco asks. Pansy shrugs. He really needs to give her a lesson on privacy. “I don’t think my type of people will be at a frat party. And the frat houses are so disgusting, I just- ew.” Pansy chuckles and stands from his bed, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder.
“Didn’t Vincent and Greg join a frat?” Pansy says, “they were your mates in high school weren’t they?” Draco sighs and turns back to his work.
“They’re idiots with air in their skulls rather than brains,” Draco says, “I’m not going to a frat party with you. Not today, not ever.” Pansy frowns, but she doesn’t look completely convinced by his answer.
“I think I’ll whittle you down,” Pansy says.
“That’s hardly something to brag about,” Draco says, “at least I don’t have to manipulate my friends into hanging out with me.”
“What friends?” Pansy says playfully.
“Get out of my room,” Draco says. Pansy sighs, but ultimately gives in, closing the door behind herself as she leaves. Draco goes back to his work with a heavy sigh. He has friends. He doesn’t have a massive social circle, but the ones he has are good and he most definitely doesn’t need to add frat boys to that circle. He doesn’t need boneheads taking up what little free time he has.
–
Draco’s just finished pouring himself a nice cup of tea when Blaise walks into the kitchen. “Coming to the party tonight?” Blaise asks, pulling a carton of juice out of the fridge.
“Did Pansy put you up to this?” Draco asks. Blaise drinks straight from the carton, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He lives with heathens.
“No, although not a crazy thing to assume,” Blaise says, “it’s just meant to be the biggest frat party of the year. Nobody wants to miss it.” Draco stirs his tea, watching the milk swirl around his spoon.
“Well I do,” Draco says, “it sounds rather unpleasant.” Blaise rolls his eyes and stuffs the juice back into the fridge.
“You’ve always got a stick up your ass,” Blaise says, “it must be all the homework you do.”
“Isn’t bullying someone for being a nerd a little immature, even for you?” Draco asks. Blaise chuckles and Draco’s lip quirks slightly.
“I know you’re bloody brilliant mate, no bullying here,” Blaise says, “I just think you need to give yourself a break every now and then.”
“I’d hardly call a frat party a break,” Draco says, “I would spend the entire time thinking about how gross the house is.” Blaise frowns and bites at his lip.
“Your choice, I suppose,” Blaise says, “but I really do think you should come. You’ve only got one more year after this, why not enjoy it before it gets too stressful?” Surprisingly, Blaise is much more convincing than Pansy was. “Have you even been to a frat party before?”
“No,” Draco says quickly, “but I know I wouldn’t like it.”
“Just last week you told me you can’t know til you try,” Blaise says, crossing his arms. Draco rubs a hand over his face and leans back against the counter.
“That was about trying escargot, I think this is different,” Draco says.
“All I’m saying is that I ended up quite enjoying the escargot,” Blaise says, “could be the same for a frat party.”
“Right, well I suppose I’ll think about it then, only to avoid being hypocritical,” Draco says. Blaise smiles and claps him on the shoulder firmly.
“That’s right,” Blaise says, “see you around, Malfoy.” He saunters away, looking rather proud of himself. Draco can’t believe he’s actually considering this, and at Blaise’s recommendation at that. The world must be flipped or he’s having a strange, vivid dream. He thinks about spending the rest of the night writing a paper, or going to a frat party, and actually finds it hard to decide. Pansy and Blaise are infecting his brain.
–
Draco really wasn’t going to go. He doesn’t like crowded places, overly loud music and sticky, gross floors. He likes studying and writing and spending time alone in his room. Yet he’s standing in front of a massive house, wearing his nice button up shirt, with an emergency shot of fireball in his pocket. He has a feeling he’ll need liquid courage to get through this night. The lawn is littered with people in various states of drunkenness, some of them already passed out in awkward positions.
“I really am happy you’re here,” Pansy says. He knows Pansy is going to ditch him the second they’re in the door, but it’s nice to feel like she actually wants him here. He doesn’t know why she wants him here, but it’s nice regardless.
“I can’t say I know how to feel yet,” Draco says. It feels like he’s in some cheesy college movie and it’s sort of startling to realize it’s a real thing. He walks to the front door, crushing a red solo cup on the way there, scaring himself enough to jump slightly. Pansy avoids poking fun at him, which is smart on her part, because he’s two seconds away from turning around and going home.
When they make their way inside, Draco is assaulted with loud music, the smell of sweat and booze and a slightly sticky floor. It’s everything he expected and it makes him shiver uncomfortably. “Oh! There’s the girl from my art class, I’ve got to see her,” Pansy says, “I’ll come find you later, yeah?” Draco sighs and waves her off, pushing past a tight group of guys to find something to drink.
He eventually finds the kitchen, after a rather unpleasant walk through sweaty bodies and takes a breath of relief. There are only two other people in the kitchen and they’re much too busy snogging to be a bother to him. He checks each of the coolers and eventually settles on a seltzer that looks enjoyable enough. Of course, he had to pick a bottle without a twist off cap, so he’s left looking around the kitchen like an idiot for a bottle opener.
“Looking for this,” a raspy voice says from behind him. He jumps slightly and turns to face the voice. A guy, a couple inches shorter, but much wider than him, is holding out a bottle opener. He has a messy mop of dark hair on his head, dopey looking glasses and a chiseled jaw. If he weren’t so obviously frat trash, Draco might find him handsome in a very ruggish sort of way.
“Yes, thank you,” Draco says, snatching it out of the guy's hand. He fumbles slightly before he can open the bottle, and he feels the guy's eyes boring into him. He hands back the opener and takes a much needed sip of his drink.
“Harry, by the way,” he says. Draco raises an eyebrow and looks down at himself. He doesn’t think he looks particularly hairy. The guy must notice his confusion, because he chuckles slightly. His smile is shockingly dazzling. “That’s my name,” he says, “yours is?” And of course his name is Harry. He might have run into the most fratty frat boy there is.
“None of your business,” Draco says, “now if you don’t mind.” Draco nods towards the door which this guys ridiculously large shoulders are mostly blocking.
“Oh come on, I was nice to you and this is what I get?” Harry says. Draco sighs, leaning back slightly on his heels. This is going to be a long night.
“Your kindness was appreciated, isn’t that enough?” Draco asks. Harry shakes his head, standing firm in his spot. “What do you want from me?”
“Your name,” Harry says, “that’s all, then you can be on your way.” Draco raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his drink, not letting his eyes fall from Harry’s.
“Why do you need my name?” Draco asks. He doesn’t know why he’s being like this. He’s not a particularly bratty person, but right now, he wants to be difficult. It’s sort of exciting, as annoying as it is.
“Because I’ve never seen you before and I like knowing everyone,” Harry says, “and you’re interesting.”
“You know nothing about me, how can I be interesting?” Draco asks. Harry shrugs, looking all casual and warm.
“Most people fall for my smile immediately,” Harry says.
“You’re such a prat,” Draco says, “this is exactly why I didn’t want to come here.” Harry frowns and that only riles Draco up more.
“So you hate frat boys, huh?” Harry says, “well, I suppose I’ll let you go for now.” He steps out of the way and motions dramatically to the door with his hands.
“For now?” Draco says, tone challenging.
“I’ll see you later, blondie,” Harry says, “that I can guarantee.” Before Draco can protest, which he is quite excited to do, a man with bright orange hair grabs Harry’s wrist and drags him to the other side of the kitchen. Draco takes the chance to escape and shake off whatever came over him just then. His goal is to avoid the frat boys, not make enemies of them.
–
Draco thinks party games are ridiculously stupid. They’re pointless games people use as excuses to get more drunk. They treat shots as the punishment as if that’s not the exact reason people play. So yes, Draco hates party games, thinks it’s a waste of time and everyone should just do shots and get it over with, but… cup pong is the outlier. It’s a lot more skill based than most games and he happens to be quite good at it. So he finds himself standing next to a stranger at a sticky table with a triangle of cups in front of him.
The girl next to him has curly, dark hair, which looks beautiful with her dark skin and eyes. Draco’s as gay as they come, but she is one of the most stunning people he’s seen. She grabbed him from the crowd unexpectedly, and Draco was ready to push her away, but then she mentioned cup pong and he was rushing over to the table. Across from him, though, is that last person he wants to see. The idiot from the kitchen, Harry and his orange haired mate.
But he finds there’s an excited buzz coursing through him and it’s not from the alcohol. He used to be quite the competitive arse, but when he started taking his academics more seriously, he sort of dropped that. Harry seems to be bringing something he buried deep out of him, and he doesn’t know whether to be angry or relieved. He feels more alive than he has in a while, and to say that while his shoes are actively sticking to the floor is saying something.
“You are good at this right?” the girl next to him asks, “you looked like you might be.” Draco smiles. He likes her already.
“Quite good,” he says.
“You best be, that’s my boyfriend over there and I’m not ready to lose to him,” she says, pointing to the red head. Her taste in men might be a bit questionable, but Draco’s not one to judge. His last boyfriend is currently in prison.
“I’d quite like to beat Harry’s arse, so we’ll most definitely win,” Draco says. She tilts her head, causing her hair to bounce slightly.
“You know Harry?” she asks.
“Not really,” Draco says, “ran into him in the kitchen and he’s insufferable. Sorry if he’s your mate,” Draco adds quickly. But she chuckles, eyes crinkling with her laughter.
“He is insufferable,” she says, “I’m glad you can see it. Most people are charmed by him immediately.”
“He mentioned,” Draco says. She smiles and takes a ping pong ball out of a cup.
“I’m Hermione,” she says, “and you’re the anti-Harry. I quite like that.”
“I’m Draco,” he says, lips quirking, “mind if I take the first toss.” She hands him the ball and steps back.
“Not at all,” she says. When he steps forward, Harry is across from him. They lock eyes and a smirk slides onto Harry’s face.
“Get on with it!” the red head says. He hears Hermione sigh behind him. Harry nods at him and they both toss the ball. Because Draco is good at this, he sinks the ball easily. Unfortunately, so does Harry.
“Interesting,” Hermione says, “go again lads.” This goes on for three more throws until Harry finally misses. Draco would never admit how good it makes him feel to win just that single toss against Harry. And that’s only to decide who gets to start first. This might end up being his most exciting game of cup pong in his life. “Ron is a prick in this game, so just ignore his distractions.”
“Hard to ignore that hair of his,” Draco says.
“Don’t I know,” Hermione says, smiling fondly. Draco doesn’t need to see much more to know how achingly in love the two of them are. It’s nice to see something genuine, even if it involves a frat boy. Hermione takes the first shots and unfortunately misses both. Ron takes his turn and sinks one cup. Hermione and Draco drink.
“Falling behind already,” Harry says, staring across the table at Draco.
“Is that so?” Draco says, tossing a ball casually, sinking a cup. Harry just smiles, not once looking away from him. He tosses the second ball and sinks it again. He sees a slight twitch in Harry’s face and it does something delightful to his heart. It feels good to be competitive like this again. The game goes on pretty evenly, both teams taking bigger and bigger sips of their drinks. Draco is sufficiently buzzed by the time he wins the first game.
“Beginners luck,” Harry says, patting Ron on the back.
“Beginner?” Hermione says, “what about me? I sank at least four cups.” Ron smiles at her and bumps Harry’s shoulder.
“Don’t give blondie all the credit,” Ron says. Draco sneers at him, not a particularly big fan of the nickname.
“Well, a rematch is in store,” Harry says, “no one else is waiting around for the table.” Draco looks around them for the first time since they started playing and realizes no one is paying them any mind at all. He looks back at Harry and grins.
“Best two of three it is,” Draco says. Hermione sighs next to him, but she looks just as competitive as him.
-
Best of three becomes five and by the fifth game, the one that decides it all, Hermione and Ron have left. They each have one cup left and Draco is actually swaying on his feet slightly as he holds the ball to toss it. “Last chance to beat me,” Harry says. He sounds frustratingly sober despite how much he’s had to drink and it only fuels the fire in Draco further.
“You just barely won your two games,” Draco says.
“Yet we’re even,” Harry says, “go on, take the shot.” Draco bites his bottom lip and looks between Harry and the cup. He really should have slowed down on his drinking, because the world is swirling around him and Harry’s cup looks impossibly far. He takes a deep breath and uses the second of stability it gives him to toss the ball. It just barely misses and Draco kisses his chances of winning goodbye. At this point, he’ll be lucky if he’s still standing by the time Harry tosses his ball.
Harry lines himself up, smirks, and tosses the ball. Of course, it lands perfectly in the cup and Draco loses. He looks down at the cup and sighs, putting his hands on the table to keep himself stable. “I’m not drinking for that,” Draco says.
“Aren’t you going to take your redemption shot?” Harry asks. Draco shakes his head, accepting his loss.
“The room’s spinning a bit too much for that,” Draco says. Harry’s smirk immediately falls and he walks around the table to Draco.
“Are you alright?” Harry asks. His voice is suddenly soft and it seems to cover Draco in a blanket of warmth.
“Drank a little too much, I suppose,” Draco says, still looking down at the cup. Harry hums next to him, drumming his fingers on his pants.
“Did you come here with someone? You should probably head home,” Harry says. Draco smiles despite himself and tilts his head a fraction to look at Harry.
“She’s over there snogging that ginger girl who looks awfully similar to Ron,” Draco says. Harry looks over his shoulder and his body noticeably tenses.
“So that’s who Ginny has been fawning over,” Harry says. Draco sighs and rubs a hand over his face, nearly losing his balance as he does. Harry is quick to put a hand on his back to keep him stable. Draco’s skin burns at the contact. “Alright, I think you need some water, come on,” Harry says.
“Why would I go anywhere with you?” Draco says, slurring his words more than he has in a long while.
“Because you’re too drunk to stand on your own,” Harry says. Draco gives in rather easily when both of Harry’s hands pull him away from the table. He wraps an arm around Draco’s waist and leads him away from the table and towards a set of stairs.
“Where are we going?” Draco asks. Harry takes a deep breath and pulls Draco up the first step with him.
“Away from all the commotion,” Harry says, “it’s my fault you’re so plastered, I at least owe you this.” Draco wants to argue, but it’s taking all of his concentration not to pull them both down the stairs. When they finally reach the top, he feels like he can breathe properly again. They go to the end of the hall and Harry pushes him into a dark room, helping him sit down. He walks away and closes the door, flicking on a lamp in the corner. “I’m going to get you some water, don’t move.” Harry says. Draco nods and watches Harry walk into another room.
He looks around himself, feeling a little less dizzy now that the music and chatter is only a dull thudding below him. This must be Harry’s room. Draco is sort of surprised at the state of it. It’s much more clean and organized than he expected for a frat boy. There are little trinkets on the shelves and posters on the walls. It’s charming. Harry comes back with a glass of water and sits next to Draco. He wraps both of Draco's hands around it and pushes it towards his mouth.
Draco dutifully drinks the entire glass, finding the cool liquid quite relieving after being in such a stuffy, sweaty place. Harry waits next to him patiently and takes the glass when Draco shoves it at him. “Better?” Harry asks. His voice is still soft and it’s doing something funny to Draco’s heartbeat.
“Mhm,” Draco hums. He scoots back slightly and lays down, letting his eyes flutter closed. It feels much better to be laying down.
“If you feel like you’re going to yak, please warn me,” Harry says, “these are my favourite sheets.” Draco nods and turns his head to smell the sheets. The alcohol is removing all of his well built manners, but he can’t be bothered by that right now.
“Smells good,” Draco mumbles, rolling onto his side and curling around the bunched up sheets.
“You are so drunk,” Harry says.
“Nuh uh,” Draco says, opening his eyes to look at Harry. Only then does he realize how green Harry’s eyes are. He stares at him silently until he starts to feel like a creep and closes his eyes again.
“Do you want me to go get your friend?” Harry asks, breaking the silence. Draco snaps his eyes open and looks at Harry desperately.
“No,” Draco says, “just- stay here.” Draco doesn’t want to be alone right now. It’s odd, but the thought of being alone, even for a little bit, is suffocating. Harry’s face softens and he scoots down the bed closer to Draco.
“Alright, I’ll stay,” Harry says, “on one condition.”
“I’m too drunk for this,” Draco says.
“I thought you said you weren’t drunk?” Harry says playfully.
“What’s the condition?” Draco asks. Harry reaches out and brushes a hair from Draco’s forehead.
“Tell me your name,” Harry says. Draco sighs and hides his face in the sheets. Harry’s voice is doing something to him and he looks so soft and warm in the light from the lamp. Draco is much too drunk for this.
“Why?” Draco asks. Harry sighs looking playfully exasperated.
“You’re about to pass out in my bed, I think I at least deserve your name,” Harry says. He has a point, but Draco doesn’t want to admit that.
“Just ask Hermione, I told her,” Draco says. Harry gasps dramatically and puts a hand on his heart.
“You wound me,” Harry says. Draco turns his face into the sheets just in time to muffle his giggle.
“You’re going to stay, right?” Draco asks. Harry stares at him, eyes darting as he seems to run over a million and one thoughts. Finally they settle and his face softens.
“I’ll stay,” Harry says, laying down on his back next to Draco, “but when you’ve been passed out for long enough, I’m getting your friend. I doubt you want to spend the night here.”
“It’s warm here,” Draco says.
“I’m sure it’s warm in your bed too,” Harry says, “and when you don’t remember any of this tomorrow, it’s probably best to be in your bed.”
“I’ll remember you,” Draco says just as Harry turns to look at him.
“You’re killing me,” Harry mumbles. Draco doesn’t quite understand what he means, but he’s happy to ignore it and let himself pass out to the sight of Harry’s structured side profile.
–
Draco wakes up with a pounding headache and his clothes from last night digging into his skin. He’s in his own bed, but he has no idea how he got here. He vaguely remembers going to the frat party last night, but he hardly remembers anything after walking in the front door. He has memories of a pleasant smell and a competitive feeling, but no images to tie those things to. He groans and rubs his eyes, turning over to look at his clock. There’s a glass of water next to his bed and he sits up to gulp it down a bit desperately.
He lets out a long breath and pats around for his phone. He finds it still tucked into his pocket, and very much dead. He reluctantly peels himself out of bed and pads his way to the bathroom. He leaves the light off and takes a much needed piss before he dares to go to the kitchen. Blaise and Pansy are both sitting at the table when he walks in, giggling about something they’re leaning in close to mumble about. They turn to face him and Pansy has this ridiculous smile on her face.
“Good morning Draco,” Pansy says, “feeling alright?” Draco frowns at her and flops into a chair, rubbing at his temples.
“I feel like garbage,” Draco says, “how did I even get back home last night?” Blaise grins and looks at Pansy, raising an eyebrow.
“A very handsome frat boy had you in his bed,” Pansy says, “he eventually got you down the stairs.” Draco bites at his lip. There’s no way he hooked up with someone last night. Surely he would remember that, even if he was plastered.
“Fuck,” Draco says. Blaise chuckles and Draco would kick him if he had enough energy to do it.
“I don’t think you shagged him if that’s what you’re worried about,” Pansy says, “you did mention that he smelled good quite a few times on the way home though.” Draco sighs and drops his head to the table.
“I haven’t been that drunk in a long time,” Draco says, “I don’t remember anything.” Pansy pats him on the shoulder sympathetically.
“I don’t know exactly what you got up to, but I think you mostly just played cup pong,” Pansy says. That must be why he remembers his competitive spark igniting.
“The frat guy was really hot,” Blaise says rather unhelpfully, “and I’m pretty sure he was like… top dog.”
“Top dog?” Draco says with disgust.
“I don’t know, like he was the leader of the house, I don’t know frat terms,” Blaise says. Draco is honestly still surprised Blaise didn’t go the frat route, he checks all of the boxes.
“You think he was the president?” Pansy asks excitedly.
“President?” Draco says with a snort, “frat boys are insufferable.”
“You seemed to be happy to drape yourself over one to get down the stairs,” Pansy says. Draco groans and pushes away from the table.
“I’m going on a walk,” Draco says, “I blame both of you for this.”
“So it’s my fault you’re gay and horny?” Blaise says, “I’m flattered.”
“I despise you both,” Draco grumbles as he disappears into his bedroom to change.
–
By the time Draco goes to bed two nights later, he actually remembers significant parts of the night. He remembers the sweaty smell of the frat house and he remembers his partner in cup pong being fun. He remembers someone with orange hair and he remembers the music being so loud it vibrated the floor. And he remembers green eyes, a pleasant smell and a comforting warmth. He has no idea what frat boy managed to get him to their room, but he’ll never let that happen ever again.
He goes to sleep trying to hold the last of his dignity tight to his chest. Whoever this frat guy was, he was kind enough to get Draco home, so things could have been more embarrassing. He tries not to think about the attraction he felt or the desire he had to stay in the guy's bed. He was drunk and it’s been a while since he’s shagged anyone, so it’s only natural he’d be attracted to any remotely tolerable man. He has school to worry about, so really, none of this is important to him. He can check going to a frat party off of his list and move on with his life. If he happens to dream of green eyes, that’s no one’s business.
–
Draco is sitting at his regular table, drinking his regular black coffee when he spots him across the cafe. It’s been over a week since the dreadful frat party and he’s all but forgotten about it. That is until he sees a strangely familiar wide frame ordering at the counter. Memories of wide shoulders and cup pong flood his mind and it actually makes his stomach swirl. He keeps his eyes on the man’s back, trying to get more of his memories to come back to him.
When he feels like he’s been staring for too long, he looks back down at his papers and pretends to read his notes. In all honesty, there’s no way he can concentrate on anything right now. He needs to know if that’s the guy. He needs to know if he actually finds a frat boy attractive, because if he does, they might need to check him into a psych ward. When he finally has enough courage to look back up, he spots the guy at a table not too far from him.
He has a book in his left hand while he idly sips the tea in the other hand. Draco knows it’s him the second he sees his side profile. He swallows and looks back down at his papers. The guy is attractive, but in a charming, warm kind of way. Draco is normally into rather dangerous looking men, probably something to do with his childhood trauma, but this guy is anything but dangerous looking.
His hair is a mess, which Draco normally despises, but it seems to suit him. He’s like a living ray of sunshine. Draco taps his pen a couple times on his book and takes a sip of his coffee. When he looks over again, the guy is looking back at him, the piercing green of his eyes showing through his glasses. Draco freezes, unsure if he should bolt out of the place or say hello. The guy makes the choice for him and walks over to his table.
He stands across from Draco and sets his tea down, leaning on the edge of the table. “I thought it was you,” he says. His voice is just as warm as the rest of him.
“Do I know you?” Draco says innocently.
“I know you were drunk, but you weren’t that drunk,” he says. Draco shrugs, fiddling with the pen in his hand.
“I genuinely don’t remember your name,” Draco says. The guy smiles and it’s quite charming in the soft light of the cafe.
“So you do remember me,” he says, “mind if I sit?” Draco doesn’t get the chance to answer before the guy pulls the chair out and sits himself down.
“Make yourself at home,” Draco says sarcastically.
“It’s Harry,” he says.
“What an interesting name,” Draco says, “suits you.” Harry tilts his head, tapping the fingers wrapped around the cup.
“Is that an insult or a compliment,” Harry says. Draco hums and sets his pen down.
“Neither,” Draco says, “just a statement.” Harry studies his face for a second and deflates slightly in his chair.
“You made it home okay?” Harry asks. His voice is soft and sort of hypnotizing. Blaise must have drugged his tea this morning if he’s finding this guy alluring.
“I did,” Draco says, “although I don’t remember how any of that happened. I honestly don't remember most of the night.” He’s not sure why he’s admitting that, and he feels sort of pathetic for how easily he got drunk. “I don’t know how you seemed so sober.” Harry grins, tracing absent shapes on the table with his finger.
“I was pretty drunk too,” Harry admits, “but not as much as you. I could at least walk in a straight line.” Draco frowns and furrows his brows.
“How did I get so drunk anyway?” Draco asks. Harry sighs and wraps both his hands around his tea.
“Cup pong,” Harry says, “we played five games.”
“Oh and I won!” Draco says proudly.
“Right, so you remember that, but nothing else?” Harry says skeptically. Draco shrugs and leans back slightly in his chair.
“I always remember when I win,” Draco says, “though it does get hard to keep track of.” Harry scoffs and leans forward on his elbows slightly.
“Tell me your name,” Harry says. Draco crosses his arms, proud of his drunk self never sharing it.
“No,” Draco says.
“Come on, Hermione wouldn’t tell me,” Harry says, “normally my puppy dog eyes work on her, but she won’t budge.” That’s right, his partner in cup pong was Hermione and she was dating that orange haired idiot. Things are slowly piecing together in his mind.
“I liked her,” Draco says. Harry sighs, seemingly exasperated, and points at Draco.
“You’re annoying,” Harry says. Draco smirks.
“You don’t have to talk to me,” Draco says. Harry shakes his head and drops his hand.
“Annoying, yes, but you’re fascinating. Fascinating enough for me to ignore you being a brat,” Harry says. Draco raises an eyebrow at that, something strange fluttering in his stomach.
“A brat?” Draco says incredulously.
“You literally won’t tell me your name,” Harry says. Draco raises a challenging eyebrow.
“Give me some reasons I should,” Draco says. Harry gives into the challenge easily and leans back in his chair, giving Draco a rather dramatic thinking gesture.
“You know mine, so it’s really only fair,” Harry says.
“I don’t recall ever asking for your name,” Draco says. Harry nods and bites at his lip, actually thinking this time.
“You owe me since I got you home in one piece,” Harry says. Draco has to admit, that’s a pretty good point. He still doesn’t want to give in.
“Okay, I suppose you have a point,” Draco says, “I’m still not convinced.” Harry huffs, but there’s a smile pulling at his lips.
“You have caught my attention in a way no one has before,” Harry says, “you ignited something and I’d like to know the name of the person responsible for that.” Draco’s heart stutters and he feels himself flush slightly. He will not let himself be flattered this easily.
“So you think you deserve my name because you think I’m special?” Draco says. Harry shrugs and his shoulders seem more tense than before.
“I guess so,” Harry says. Draco sort of feels bad, but not quite bad enough to give in yet.
“I like that you don’t know my name,” Draco says honestly.
“You like torturing me?” Harry asks rather dramatically. Draco rolls his eyes, something warm spreading in his chest.
“I like the game,” Draco says. A knowing smile comes over Harry’s face and excitement spikes through Draco’s core.
“You liked being pursued,” Harry says, more to himself than to Draco. And really, Draco’s never really thought about it, but he supposes he does. The idea of Harry trying to win him over is exciting and arousing. Harry’s lovely green eyes aren’t enough to convince Draco he wants a frat boy so Harry’s really got his work cut out for him.
“Are you going to win me over, Harry?” Draco asks, cheeks flushed and skin tingling.
“I’m damn well going to try,” Harry says.
–
This little thing between him and Harry quickly becomes a game. Draco actually finds himself leaving the house more often, hoping to run into Harry. The first time they bumped into each other after the cafe, Harry paid for Draco’s lunch and sat with him, even though it made him late to class. Draco knows better than to be wooed by gifts, but it does make him feel warm and fuzzy for the rest of the day.
They run into each other quite a few more times throughout the following two weeks, and Harry always does something for him. He’ll buy him food, walk him to class, get him a gift… the list goes on. Draco finds himself looking forward to his run-ins with Harry. They’re all brief, but they’re nice. Harry feels so much more human than Draco expected, and he easily forgets Harry’s a frat boy. Potentially the president of a frat.
Of course, the one day he’s quite hoping not to run into Harry, he sees him at the most unfortunate time. He woke up feeling quite ill in the morning and has been dragging himself around to classes all day. He looks like shit and when he’s sick, he’s a dick to everyone around him. He just wants to get home, curl up in bed and pass out in peace. Running into Harry will mean it only takes him longer to get home. Just when he’s leaving his last lecture, he spots Harry coming around a corner.
Harry sees him before Draco can duck away and walks over to him. He has a hand behind his back and a soft smile on his face. It drops slightly when he sees Draco. “Are you alright?” Harry asks, “I’ve never seen you with your hood up before.” Draco chuckles and stuffs his hands into his pockets.
“A little ill,” Draco says simply. Harry frowns and reveals what was behind his back. “Is that a Lego flower?” Harry nods and sheepishly holds it out to him.
“Ron got a set for Hermione, but she doesn’t like the colour yellow too much, so he let me have this one,” Harry says, scratching the back of his neck.
“So I get your hand me downs?” Draco asks. Harry bites at his lip and shrugs. Draco sniffles.
“Of course you put it that way,” Harry says somewhat fondly, “my friend Luna makes a really good chicken soup, I could have her make you some.” Draco’s heart squeezes and he rolls the flower around in his fingers a little bit.
“I’m vegetarian,” Draco says, “I appreciate the offer though.”
“Well I make a good tomato soup,” Harry says, “let me make you some.” Draco waves him off, careful not to shake the flower too much.
“I’m ill, Harry, I’d rather not pass my germs on to you,” Draco says.
“I knew you had some empathy in there,” Harry says, lightly poking Draco’s chest, “just let me bring you some soup.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” Draco asks, choosing to be difficult as always.
“You could give me your number,” Harry says, “It would be a lot easier to do this if I didn’t have to rely on chance.” Draco hums and tilts his head. He does want to see Harry more often, for whatever strange reason, and he doesn’t need Draco’s name to have his number.
“Do what?” Draco says playfully.
“Don’t make me say it,” Harry says, “I don’t know a less gross way to put it.”
“You’re courting me,” Draco says with a small smile. Harry rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair.
“Can I bring you soup or not?” Harry asks. Draco’s brain must be filled with snot, because he gives in without any more protest. He shoves his phone at Harry and waits not so patiently to get it back. “You better text me your address.” Draco sighs and slips his phone back into his pocket.
“Only because I’m hungry and too lazy to do anything about it,” Draco says. Harry smiles like he knows just how much of a liar Draco is.
–
“Draco? Are you expecting someone?” Pansy says. She’s pressed up against their apartment door looking through the peephole. Draco looks up from his cocoon of blankets and sighs. He forgot Pansy was home and he’s sure he’s never going to hear the end of this.
“Let him in,” Draco says. HIs voice is nasally and hoarse and he hates it. He hates being sick. He hears the door open, but he tunes out whatever conversation Harry and Pansy have. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with that right now. Soon enough, there’s a weight on the couch next to him and he turns to look at Harry.
“You look cozy,” Harry says. Draco nods and pulls his blankets tighter around himself. “Here. I brought some crackers too if you’d like them.” He holds out a bowl to Draco and he has to admit, it smells quite nice. Draco takes a breath and looks down at his hands clutching the blanket. “You’re not going to make me feed it to you, are you?” Draco laughs, but stops himself before it turns into a cough.
“No, just let me untangle my hands,” Draco says. Harry nods and waits patiently for Draco to orient himself. When his hands are free, Harry sets the warm bowl into them, slipping a spoon into the bowl.
“Is it too hot?” Harry asks. Draco really wishes Harry would stop being so nice and soft, it’s making it quite hard to play their game. He blames his illness riddled brain for the fact that he wants to cuddle up in Harry’s arms.
“It’s good,” Draco says. His stomach growls and Harry smiles, settling into the couch. Looks like he’s planning to stay for a while. Draco brings the spoon up to his mouth and blows on the soup before taking a bite. He can’t say he’s well versed in tomato soup, but he has to admit this one is really good. The warm soup feels amazing going down, warming him from the inside out. “This is quite good,” Draco says honestly.
“I’m glad,” Harry says, “I’ll uh- well I’ll let you eat.” Draco takes another spoonful and as he swallows it, he realizes he doesn’t want Harry to leave. Sure, he just wants to curl up and fall asleep, but he’d quite like to have Harry’s company while he does that.
“What about the bowl?” Draco asks, “don’t you want it back?” Harry shrugs, putting the crackers on Draco’s thigh.
“I’m sure you’ll return it at some point,” Harry says. Draco doesn’t want to look desperate, he doesn’t want to give away what he’s feeling, but he’s sick and tired and cold and Harry is so warm.
“You could stay until I finish,” Draco says quietly. Something flashes in Harry’s eyes and then a small smile spreads to his lips.
“I could,” Harry says. So he does. They sit in silence next to each other as Draco eats his food. Their legs are only inches apart and Draco welcomes the warmth that wafts off of Harry. When he’s through the food, he scraps the spoon around the bowl a couple times before looking at Harry.
“Thank you,” Draco says. Harry smiles and takes the dishes.
“No worries,” Harry says, “I was craving tomato soup anyway, it was a good excuse to make some.” Draco bites his lip to hide his smile. Harry is, maybe not so surprisingly, doing a good job of charming Draco. Harry stares at Draco for a while then takes a deep breath. “We should get you off the couch, yeah?” Draco was hoping he’d say that.
“I feel like a pile of goop,” Draco admits, “I could use a hand.” Harry sets the dishes down and stands, reaching his hands out to Draco, who leans heavily against him when he stands. He’s too tired to think about how clingy he’s being. When they get to his room, Harry pulls his blankets open and turns on a lamp.
“Brush your teeth in the morning, okay?” Harry says.
“I’m not a child, Harry, I’m just sick,” Draco says.
“And you deserve to be taken care of,” Harry says, “need anything else?” Draco shakes his head. He supposes it is quite nice to have someone take care of him. “Goodnight then, blondie.”
“I loathe that name,” Draco says. Harry shrugs as a playful smile comes over his face.
“That wouldn’t be an issue if you told me your name,” Harry says. Draco huffs and crosses his arms dramatically.
“Not happening,” Draco says, “now stop standing in my room like a freak and let me sleep.” Harry rolls his eyes with a laugh.
“You’re truly unique,” Harry says.
“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Draco says, “goodnight, Harry.” Harry gives him a cute little salute as he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. Draco falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow.
–
“Blaise, I must tell you what happened last week while you were gone,” Pansy says when Draco walks into the kitchen. He should have just stayed in bed and avoided these heathens at all costs. He sighs and walks over to the table to sit down with his cup of tea. A peaceful morning would be too much to ask for, wouldn’t it?
“You must not do anything,” Draco says. Pansy ignores him and sets a mug down in front of Blaise.
“That frat boy from the party brought Draco soup,” Pansy says, “Draco was a miserable sick blob on the couch and the guy brought him soup.” Blaise gasps and looks at Draco like he did something scandalous.
“Draco, what’s this about then?” Blaise asks. Draco looks down at his tea wishing it would help him disappear from this conversation.
“He saw I was sick and wanted to bring me soup,” Draco says, “would you say no to free food?” Blaise raises his hands in surrender, but there’s a smirk on his face.
“Obviously not,” Blaise says, “but we’re not going to ignore the fact that you’re talking to this guy.”
“We’re not talking,” Draco says.
“They are,” Pansy says, “Draco definitely fancies him.” Draco turns and glares at her. He needs new friends immediately.
“I don’t blame you,” Blaise says.
“I don’t even like blokes and I can see how hot he is,” Pansy says, “I don’t know why you’re not snogging him yet.” Draco sighs. He’d rather not explain their game to his friends. He hardly knows why he likes playing hard to get so much, he really doesn’t want to have to explain it.
“That is none of your business,” Draco says.
“Is there a reason he doesn’t know your name?” Pansy says. Blaise breaks out into laughter, clutching at his sides. Draco wants to curl into himself and die.
“I’m not having this conversation,” Draco says. He picks up his tea and shuffles off to his room.
–
Other than his room, Draco’s favourite place is the library. He’s always had quite an admiration for books, and for some reason, being surrounded by them helps him study. He likes how quiet and solitary it is. He’s been here for two hours and he really has no desire to leave. He always has homework to do, and getting it all done while he’s here is ideal. It gives him a sliver of free time when he goes back to the apartment, which he’ll probably use to read anyways.
The library is mostly empty, since it’s a Saturday afternoon, so Draco is really in his happy place. There’s classical music playing in his headphones and books scattered in front of him. His tea is still warm and the small bag of candies he brought is still half full. He’s so lost in his own world that he nearly jumps out of his skin when someone taps his shoulder.
When he pulls his headphones off and turns to look, he’s met with green eyes and messy hair. He sighs and looks down at the jagged line he drew when Harry startled him. “Harry,” Draco says, hoping he sounds annoyed.
“Hello,” Harry says, sitting down opposite Draco without asking. Draco isn’t even surprised, Harry is quite good at making himself at home everywhere he goes.
“I’ve never seen you in the library before,” Draco observes, giving up on his research for now.
“I come here on occasion,” Harry says casually, “I assume you basically live here.” Draco raises an eyebrow.
“What makes you say that?” Draco asks. Harry grins and leans forward on his elbows.
“You’re a nerd,” Harry says simply. Draco purses his lips and glares at Harry.
“Am not,” Draco says, “I just care about my grades.”
“I was referring to the keychains on your bag,” Harry says. Draco looks down at the mentioned keychains and sighs. Right, the Star Trek, Adventure Time and chess piece keychains.
“I forgot your frat brain can’t handle anything other than sports and beer,” Draco says. Harry chuckles and reaches out to take one of Draco’s books.
“I’ll have you know my interests are vast,” Harry says, “I’m more than a frat boy.” Draco rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair.
“Humour me,” Draco says. Harry hums and puts the book back, open to the page Draco had left it on.
“I love cartoons,” Harry says, “and video games too. And no, not the ones you’re thinking of.”
“So you don’t play GTA or shooter games?” Draco asks playfully.
“Not really, no, I prefer story games,” Harry says, “I played Little Nightmares recently and that was quite fun.” Draco’s surprised. Harry didn’t exactly strike him as that type of guy.
“So you do have some depth,” Draco says. Harry shrugs, an adorable flush coming over his cheeks.
“I suppose so,” Harry says, “now it’s your turn to humour me.” Draco pinches his brows, crossing his arms.
“I need you to ask a question, I’m not entirely sure how to talk about myself,” Draco says. There he goes again, being strangely honest with Harry for no good reason.
“What’s your favourite film?” Harry asks. It feels a bit childish to get to know each other this way, but Draco sort of likes it. It feels easy.
“Well, that’s hard to say, but I’m a big fan of this film called Coherence,” Draco says, “it’s not a super mainstream film, but it was fascinating.” He goes on to explain the movie, and a few other favourites of his to Harry. Conversation after that is easy and time seems to fly by them. It turns out Harry is a lot more than a plain frat boy. Draco finds his attraction for him goes beyond his weirdly charming appearance.
“Oh look, it’s raining,” Harry exclaims, “I have been waiting for rain.”
“Do you have a rain kink or something?” Draco asks. Harry scoffs and waves him off, standing from his chair. “What?” Draco asks, looking at his outstretched hand.
“We’re going out in the rain,” Harry says. Draco looks at him with wide eyes, but when he realizes Harry isn’t messing with him, he squints at him.
“Why would we do that?” Draco asks.
“Because it’s so fun,” Harry says, “have you never run around in the rain? It’s like- it’s the most freeing thing ever.” Draco studies Harry’s face and the slight flush to his cheeks wins Draco over quite quickly.
“This is quite stupid,” Draco says, taking Harry’s hand.
“You’ll change your mind,” Harry says, dragging Draco away from the table. Draco looks back at his stuff and frowns. This better be worth it. Harry drags him all the way to the door, looking back with a grin every now and then. When they get to the door, Draco digs his heels into the ground and stops.
“We’re going to be soaked,” Draco says, “will they even let us back in the library?” Harry sighs and drops Draco’s hand.
“Stay put,” Harry says. He rushes away and Draco, despite wanting to go back to the comfort of his table, stays put. Harry comes back a couple minutes later with Draco’s bag. “Everything is packed away, I marked all the pages you were on, now we can just open the door and grab it.” Draco can’t help but smile.
“You’re quite fascinating,” Draco says.
“I’m glad you’ve finally noticed,” Harry says with a grin, “now lets go, I don’t want to miss the rain.” Without a second to think, Harry drags them outside. They are immediately assaulted with heavy drops of rain, and Draco has to admit, it’s quite refreshing. Harry pulls them to the middle of the courtyard and stops to look up at the sky. Draco follows suit, closing his eyes as the rain floods over his face.
Then he hears splashes and looks over to see Harry running around. He’s whooping and laughing and he looks so free. Draco only watches for a couple moments longer before he gives in and starts chasing Harry around. He feels something warm spread in his chest and understands completely why Harry wanted this. He feels amazing and Harry’s giddy laughter only spurs him on.
Eventually, he catches up to Harry and they both flop onto a bench to catch their breaths. Draco doesn’t bother being subtle about the way he looks over Harry’s body. His shirt is soaked through, clinging to his skin in quite a delicious way. The rain drips off of his sharp jaw in a very appealing way. “What are you looking at?” Harry asks knowingly.
“Nothing,” Draco says. Harry turns his head and looks over at Draco. His eyes slowly rake over Draco’s body and it causes him to shiver.
“You’re wearing a white shirt,” Harry states. Draco looks down at himself and sucks in a breath. “I didn’t realize you were so built.” Harry says. Draco feels himself flush and looks away.
“Didn’t think a nerd could be in good shape?” Draco asks playfully. Harry sighs and scoots closer to Draco.
“No, I just- you look really good,” Harry says. Draco looks over just as Harry licks his lips, catching a couple drops of rain on his tongue. Draco takes a deep breath and stands, extending a hand for Harry. He was way too close to snogging Harry and he’s not ready to give in just yet. Harry takes his hand without question and Draco drags them back to the middle of the courtyard.
He stands there staring at Harry for a couple seconds before he steps forward and wraps his arms around him. It takes Harry a second, but then he melts into the hug. Draco is a little taller than him and right now, he really appreciates that. It lets him rest his head against Harry’s, feeling his wet hair tickle his cheek. When he feels sufficiently hugged, he pulls back just enough to look at Harry. He’s not sure which one of them leans in, but suddenly their lips are locked together.
Draco sighs into it, sliding his hands up Harry’s back and neck and finally into his hair. Harry groans and Draco takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. There’s nothing in his mind except the taste of Harry, the surprisingly soft feel of his lips. He’s kissed a good deal of people in his life, but none of them have kissed him quite like Harry. Harry kisses with hunger and passion and power. He tilts Draco’s head how he wants it, lets his hand explore the knobs of Draco’s spine.
When they pull back to breathe, Draco feels the world around him disappear. The green of Harry’s eyes, even covered by his wet glasses, is the most beautiful thing Draco has seen. He pushes the glasses up and off Harry’s eyes, tracing a finger over the slight bags under his eyes. He kisses him again, this time more gentle. Harry lets him take control, pliant in his hands. Maybe Draco should have been kissing frat boys this whole time. Or maybe it’s just Harry. Maybe he really is just special.
This time when they pull back, Harry brings a hand up to his lips, touching them gently, like he can’t believe Draco kissed him. “I’ve won you over?” Harry whispers. Draco laughs softly and cups Harry’s face.
“Draco,” he says, sliding his thumb over Harry’s cheekbone. A beautiful smile splits Harry’s lips and he wraps his arms around Draco tightly, spinning them in a circle.
“Draco,” Harry says, giddy laughter tumbling from his lips, “oh how I fancy you, Draco.”
“I know,” Draco says, kissing Harry’s cheek. “I’ve come to fancy you too,” Draco pauses, “how in Merlin’s name that’s possible, I’m not sure.”
“I’m just so very charming,” Harry says. Draco rolls his eyes, putting Harry’s glasses back on his nose.
“You’re a dork,” Draco says.
“Can I take you on a date then?” Harry asks, “I want to ask you out the proper way.”
“Don’t people normally snog after a date or two?” Draco asks.
“Sure, maybe,” Harry says, “but you’re different and special and I want you to be my boyfriend. I want to do it properly.” Draco nearly chokes on his own spit. He’s never actually had a relationship before. He’s hooked up with a fair share of people, but having a boyfriend? That’s not something he’s ever gotten to.
“I- I figured as much, courting and all,” Draco says, hoping to sound sure and confident.
“Ew, stop using that word,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. And it’s so adorable that Draco forgets about his worries. There’s no reason to be worried, this is Harry and he’s pretty sure there’s no one better out there to be his first, and hopefully only, boyfriend.
–
EPILOGUE
Draco pulls on his jumper, looking at himself in the mirror. It’s a little itchy and the colours don’t exactly suit him, but Mrs. Weasley made it for him and he’s got to wear it. “It looks adorable on you,” Harry says. He’s sitting on their bed in his own itchy jumper, which is surprisingly flattering on him.
“I look stupid,” Draco says. Harry hums and walks over to him, wrapping his arms around him from behind.
“You could never look stupid,” Harry whispers right next to his ear. Draco leans into him, letting his eyes flutter shut.
“You say I look stupid all the time,” Draco says. Harry kisses behind his ear and Draco shivers.
“And you know I mean it fondly,” Harry says, “you’re the most beautiful man on the planet.” Draco smiles softly. He didn’t realize how much he loved compliments until he met Harry. It’s nice to feel appreciated. Draco turns in his arms and kisses the corner of his mouth.
“You’re quite handsome yourself,” Draco says. Harry flushes and tucks his head against Draco’s chest. Harry still can’t quite handle compliments and Draco loves flustering him.
“I really like that you’re wearing the jumper,” Harry says.
“Yeah?” Draco says. Harry looks up at him and his eyes are brimming with tears. Draco cups his jaw and wipes the first tear that falls.
“You’re my family,” Harry says, leaning into the touch, “I’m so happy you’re in my life.” Draco smiles, looking deep into Harry’s eyes. “I love you so much. Does it hurt for you too? To love me?”
“Yes,” Draco says, “I’ve never loved something quite as much as I love you.” Harry bites his bottom lip, trying to hold his tears back.
“I don’t want to show up to the Weasley’s in tears,” Harry says.
“It’s not my fault I’m so lovable,” Draco says. Years ago, he never would have been able to say that, but Harry has given him a lot of confidence.
“I’m so glad you got drunk at my frat party,” Harry says, sniffling the last of his tears away.
“I despise that that’s how we met,” Draco says. Harry kisses his jaw, then peppers kisses over to his lips.
“Who cares, I’m just glad I met you,” Harry says, “as cheesy as it is, I wasn’t sure anyone could love me before I met you.” Now Draco feels himself tear up slightly. When they met, Harry was the confident one, he was social and loud and bright. Only after months did Draco realize just how insecure Harry really was.
“You’ve always been loveable, baby,” Draco says.
“Do you believe in fate?” Harry asks. In all honesty, Draco doesn’t, but he sees where this is going and for Harry’s sake, he just might believe in it.
“I suppose,” Draco says. Harry smiles and pulls away, lacing his hand with Draco’s to pull them out of the room.
“Let’s go then,” Harry says, “thanksgiving dinner is awaiting us and I’m starving.” Draco follows after him, nearly tripping on his feet trying to keep up with Harry.
–
Draco is still not used to the Weasley family, even after three years of dinners with them. There’s so many of them and they’re loud and happy and so welcoming it’s almost too much. Learning about Harry’s family dynamics was a bit of a process, and Draco hardly expected to be welcomed with open arms, but the Weasley’s love Harry and by extension, love Draco. Molly has pulled him off to the side a few times before to explain how happy she is that Harry has him. Draco is happy that Harry was able to find a family after everything that happened to him.
“Draco, could you pass me the salt?” Ginny says. Draco passes it over to her and she gives him a knowing look. He flushes and pats the box in his pocket. Harry puts his hand on Draco’s thigh and squeezes it.
“Look at Ron’s jumper,” Harry whispers. There’s a big glob of sauce clinging to the fabric.
“Always a mess, he is,” Draco says.
“Yet you actually like him,” Harry whispers, “you like my friends.” Draco rolls his eyes and kicks Harry’s ankle.
“Your friends can be quite entertaining, I’ll give them that,” Draco says. Harry smiles and digs into his food, interlocking their ankles under the table. The dinner drags on and the dessert only lasts longer. Draco is finding it hard to keep himself sitting still. The box in his pocket feels like it’s burning a hole in his leg. When they’re finally cleaning the table up, Draco follows Molly to the kitchen with a pile of dishes.
“You look nervous dear,” Molly says, patting his cheek.
“Do you blame me?” Draco asks, “I need this to go right.” Molly smiles and takes the pile of dishes from him.
“You could propose with a candy ring and Harry would cry with joy,” Molly says, “he loves you like nothing else, dear, no need to worry.” Draco nods, but he doesn’t feel any less pressure. Harry deserves the absolute best, and he still worries about whether he can provide that. “You are more than everything he needs, okay?”
“Thank you,” Draco says, for once thankful of Molly’s eerie ability to know what he’s thinking.
“Now stop trying to clean up and go find Harry,” Molly says, “he may not know it yet, but tonight is about you two.” Draco thanks her again and shuffles out of the kitchen, finding Harry squished on the couch with the twins. Draco watches from the doorway for a little while, admiring Harry’s open and genuine smile. When Harry spots him, his smile softens and he stands from the couch, sauntering over to him.
“The sun has set,” Harry says, “let's find a nice spot in the grass to look at the stars, yeah? George always takes the best patch of grass.” Draco lets Harry lead him outside to a blanket that’s already set up. Harry’s constant kindness never fails to make Draco’s heart flutter. Harry sits down first and pulls Draco into his arms. The stars are particularly bright tonight and Draco feels himself getting emotional before he’s even done anything.
Harry kisses his cheek and runs his hands over Draco’s legs. Draco’s breath hitches when Harry’s hand catches on the box in his pocket. “What are you hiding in there?” Harry asks.
“Nothing,” Draco says a little too quickly. Harry puts his hand on the box again.
“Nothing?” Harry says, “this feels like something.” Draco sighs and relaxes back into Harry. Of course things would go this way.
“It’s a box, Harry,” Draco says.
“Can I guess what’s in it?” Harry says. Draco wants to protest, wants things to go to plan, but this is Harry and things are never predictable with him.
“If you must,” Draco says. Harry must catch the lack of playfulness in his voice, because he slides back and turns Draco around so they’re facing each other.
“I can pretend not to know what it is,” Harry says earnestly, cupping Draco’s face.
“You already know,” Draco says, “stand up?” Harry smiles softly and stands. Draco does the same and takes a deep breath. He wanted this to be more of a surprise, but looking at Harry now, he realizes he doesn’t really care how it happens. He takes the velvet box out of his pocket and drops to one knee. “Harry, you have changed my life in the best way possible and you’ve made me realize how much more there is to living. I’ve never loved anything the way I love you, and I want to forever put all my love into you.”
Harry's eyes are brimming with tears and Draco is just barely holding his tears back enough to keep speaking. “You are the kindest, warmest person I have ever had the honour of meeting and you’ve been taking care of me since the day we met. Will you, Harry Potter, marry me?” Tears finally flow down Harry’s cheeks and he nods, grabbing Draco’s hand to pull him up. He pulls him into a crushing hug and lets out a long, relieved sigh.
“Yes,” Harry says simply into the shell of Draco’s ear. Draco happily stays in Harry’s arms until he lets go, then slips the gold band onto Harry’s finger.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t more of a surprise,” Draco says.
“It was perfect,” Harry says, “you always are.” Draco smiles and kisses Harry gently, trying to communicate everything he couldn’t quite put into words for his little speech. Just then, Draco can hear voices in the distance as everyone else makes their way outside. Before he can even blink, the Weasley’s are pouncing on them, congratulating them with hugs and smiles. Draco wouldn’t want things any other way.