Work Text:
“Harry.” Ron tugs at his sleeve. “Harry, how do I ‘reblog’ on Instagram?”
Harry swipes left on a brunette girl with pigtails and answers, “You don’t.” His best friend makes an exasperated sound and Harry looks up to see him turning the phone, which Harry bought him, to the side as if to find the reblog button there. “You only like things on Instagram.”
“No, no,” Ron assures, “I want to reblog them too.”
Harry rolls his eyes. “No, I mean, you can only press the hearts, you can’t put them on your own wall.”
Ron looks annoyed. “But then how are my followers going to see the things?”
Harry chuckles and turns back to his own phone, were a too-good-looking-to-be-good Theodore Nott has come up as a potential match. “You don’t have any followers,” he says and swipes left. Ron, muttering, doesn’t contradict him.
They’re on the tube, because Harry doesn't have a connection into the Floo-network (and Harry’s with Ron because he doesn't dare to let Ron ride by himself, despite protests from him that he ‘can do it by myself, I’ve gone by tube for years now!’ because although it is true, he has also always been with Hermione).
Leaning over, Ron asks, “Can I get Tinder, too?”
“Mate, it’s only a dating app. Nothing else.”
“Oh,” Ron says, “that’s a no then,” and he moves back to Instagram. Harry swipes left on seven people in four seconds and tells Ron he has enough apps as it is anyway.
In the beginning, Harry had been reluctant to get a Tinder-profil, but somehow Ginny, of all people, had convinced him.
“I won’t meet the love of my life through a screen,” he’d said.
“Yeah, well, you’re missing out on a lot of fun and have absolutely no way of meeting them if you sit in your flat and do nothing all day, either,” she’d responded. There had been no good argument after that and she'd “helped” him with his bio by typing “magical fingers and messy hair” and then swiped right on the first five potential matches before Harry had managed to get his phone back.
At first, he’d been meticulous. Gone through people bios and photos and really given everyone an honest chance, as well as swiping right on a large number of people. After a couple of very awkward conversations, he changed tactics to not swiping right unless it felt really good, but after awhile it got too much to invest himself in everyone so deeply. Soon enough he was not only addicted to swiping left, he also didn’t have the energy to care about anything but the first picture. Nowadays, it is more mindless than anything and there goes another three to the left.
It’s always the ones that he doesn’t immediately swipe left on, that he swipes right on. The ones who makes him hold up, like this girl with rainbow coloured hair. Something that catches Harry’s eye and then he’s off again. Left left left left left Draco Malfoy. With a posh looking picture, taken from above with his face turned slightly downwards, in a suit jacket and with his long hair splayed out down over his shoulders, Malfoy not only catches his eye, but has them locked in place. The two of them haven't seen each other in years, and it feels strange to see him in such a muggle environment (where Ron's first exclaim had been: Harry, the picture doesn't even move!). Harry taps his picture. “I know you want me and I know I'm better than you, so if I swipe right, it means I've lowered my standards” his bio says and Harry snorts. He refrains from looking at any of the other—five—pictures the Slytherin has in his profile and instead holds the screen out to Ron.
“Look who could be my perfect match,” he says and Ron glances at Harry’s phone before he snickers.
“Swipe right,” he says and then turns to his Insta-quest again.
Harry laughs, maybe he should? Just for shits and giggles; it isn’t like Malfoy will swipe right anyhow. So he does. There’s no instant match, so Harry breaths out; not that he was honestly expecting one, but it feels good to know that Malfoy has his priorities straight.
Ron happily announces, “This person says I can get thousands of followers if I just—”
Harry grabs his phone away from him and makes sure Ron hasn’t clicked anything stupid. “Don’t believe anything that sounds too good to be true, I’ve told you about this.”
“But, Harry—”
“No ‘buts’,” Harry commands firmly. Ron grumbles before agreeing but once he does, Harry lets him have his mobile back. His own chimes happily: the tone which indicates someone Harry has swiped right on, has swiped right on him too. Thrilled, he gets his phone out and the screen says:
It's a Match! You and Draco have liked each other. Send a message. Keep swiping.
Staring at his phone, his picture next to Malfoy’s, Harry doesn’t know what to make of it. Did Malfoy do the same thing as him, right-swipe just because it would never happen that Harry would do so too? Did he do it seriously?
Harry: ehm
Harry: hi?
He casts a glance at Ron but he’s so deep in Instagram, he doesn’t care about Harry’s Tinder adventures anymore. It’s not like Harry wants to hide it, per se, but Ron would mock him relentlessly for having typed a message first (especially since the one he just wrote was so awkward).
Draco: Potter
Despite himself, Harry gets almost excited by the reply. He sucks on the tip of his thumb and contemplates what to respond. Awkward beginning, but could he go for witty continuation? He isn’t witty. He doesn’t know how to be funny on demand.
Harry: april fools?
Immediately Draco responds that “it’s September”.
Harry: right
Draco: that’s what you swiped
There’s simply no way for Harry to know in which direction this conversation is going, if it is a prank or a serious come-on. Harry finds himself not sure of which he prefers.
Harry: why do you have tinder? And like, a phone
Draco: Sometimes I like to get in touch with my friends quickly, and sometimes I want to quickly make new friends
“Who are you writing with? Did you Match with someone?”
Harry jumps out of his skin when Ron leans over, almost dropping his phone, but thankfully, he gets a grip on it before it slams into the train floor. Ron gives him a one-man applause for the heroic save and Harry blushes.
“Yeah, no, Malfoy swiped us into a Match,” he says with a shrug. A shrug far more nonchalant than his quickened heartbeat.
“You tryin’ to see how far he’ll let the joke go?” Ron asks, obviously finding the idea funny.
Harry shrugs again. Something like that.
Harry: You trying to make a friend out of me?
It sounds way flirtier than intended. Harry doesn’t really care.
Draco: You’ve made it clear in the past that that would never happen. Then again, you swiped right on me first, so I’m not sure where that leaves us.
Maybe Malfoy’s just as confused about this as Harry is.
Harry: maybe what I’ve said in the past might not apply anymore. We’re both adults now
Draco: Are you trying to make a friend out of me?
Harry ponders the question. He isn’t. Is he? This whole thing had just started as a careless joke. Objectively speaking, they’ve been through hell and back, sometimes together and sometimes on different ends but always… connected. And it might not be the first time Harry has seen Malfoy’s face and thought of it as pleasing.
Harry: maybe I am
Then he puts his phone deep down in his pocket and stares at the floor in front of him, tries to ignore that his cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and that he just, very clearly, flirted with his school nemesis. Ron knows him too well and it takes him only one glance to realise that Harry is embarrassed.
“Did he win?” he asks and bumps Harry’s shoulder. “Did he send you a picture of his little Draco? Did he ask you out?”
Reluctantly, Harry answers, “He said he wants to be friends.”
Ron rolls his eyes. “That’s not even extreme.”
“I think he’s serious,” Harry says and Ron gives him a pointed look.
“Serious?”
“I think he swiped right seriously.”
Ron laughs. “Because he wants to actually date you?”
“Why would that be so strange?” Harry responds, faking being offended.
Ron grins and says, “I don't know, Harry, my good mate, maybe because you’ve tried to kill each other a few times?”
Harry rubs his chin comically and says, “You’re right, I shouldn't date someone who cares not about my well being.”
“Were you serious?” And just like that, Ron has spoiled Harry’s pretended ease with a simple question and Harry feels himself sagging down in his seat.
“No,” he says defensively and Ron gives him an eyebrow.
“Uh-huh,” he says and he doesn’t even try to hide that he thinks this is funny too. Harry hadn’t been serious. Not at all, it had just been fun and the fact that he’s always had a secret little… thing for Malfoy hadn’t contributed at all. Not so much. Maybe a little. But it had been a joke and now… for some reason, not anymore.
“You told me I should get out there,” he mutters.
“Yeah, dating Malfoy would really be out there.” Harry gives him a Look which Ron ignores in favour of gesturing towards Harry’s phone. “What did you answer? Did you tell him you could be friends?” Then Ron’s face drops. “Or did he mean friends as friend friends, or like, Tinder-“friends”?”
The expression sounds ridiculous on Ron’s lips combined with his horrid face, so Harry laughs before shaking his head. “I have no idea.” Would Malfoy really, with all of their history, find Harry on Tinder, swipe them into a Match, and talk to him for just a shag? Harry thinks he can at least treat him dinner first.
Ron holds out his hand. "Ey, let me see the conversation, I can figure it out for you."
Harry simply states, "No way," and doesn't let Ron closer to his phone that three feet.
Once Ron has given up on trying and gone back to his own accounts, Harry fishes his phone back up and looks at the three new messages from Malfoy.
Draco: You’re being very indecisive about that. Make up your mind, you prick
And then, when Harry hadn’t answered:
Draco: That was rude
Draco: You make me say rude things
Harry could’ve written that himself; Malfoy has always made him say things, most of them not pleasant. Right now, it feels more like banter than anything else, though.
Harry: rude
Draco’s response is quick.
Draco: Very
“Are you ‘sexting’?” Ron looks at him from behind his phone, like Malfoy will suddenly come out of Harry’s screen with his dick out.
Harry forces himself to sigh and answers, “No, Ron, I’m not sexting Malfoy,” just as Malfoy writes “you make me want to do rude things, too”. Ron mumbles that he doesn’t believe Harry. Harry just tries not to gulp. Ron doesn't have to know everything. He taps his answer and sends it before he can comprehend it.
Harry: like what
It takes a minute before Malfoy responds and for some reason, Harry actually thought Malfoy was typing something really long and when he reads the real message, he gets slightly disappointed.
Draco: You’re quite serious about this, aren’t you?
Harry: You’re the one turning this serious
It takes even more time before he receives a simple “Ha”. It’s followed closely by:
Draco: So you’re not, then?
But Harry has decided that he is, in fact, serious.
Harry: You make me think rude things. Not all bad.
Draco: Huh
Draco: like what?
Harry: I asked you first
Draco: what are you? Twelve?
Harry: you tell me yours, i'll tell you mine
“Harry, you’re my best mate and all, but you literally disgust me.”
Harry hits Ron over the head, yelling, “Stop creeping!”
Ron, rubbing his head with a pretend-angry face, mouths “ouch”. Harry holds his phone to his chest, pretending Ron never saw what he wrote, pretending he never wrote it.
“Calm down, Malfoy-flirter,” Ron says. “It’s not like I’m gonna tell everyone the story of how you connected over shared rudeness in my wedding toast.”
“You're the worst. I'm not going to marry him.”
“But you gonna shag the blond bastard,” Harry’s no-longer-best-friend sing-songs and in the same moment he snaps a picture of Harry’s face. Ron chokes on a laugh when he looks at it and he turns the screen so Harry can see his own expression. Despite warming up to the idea of actually shagging Malfoy, hearing Ron say it, put a traumatised look on his face. The picture looks terrible. Ron’s surely going to post it on Instagram.
“Do you think there are enough of us on Instagram for it to make any difference if I hashtag it with #HarryPotter?”
“If you put that online,” Harry says calmly, “I will take pictures when I shag him and force you to look at them.”
Ron just looks smugly at him and only says, “‘When’.” Then he starts tapping away. Harry winces; he played himself straight bi into that one.
Draco: I’m not telling you over texts
Harry looks at Ron and rolls his eyes. If Ron doesn’t take it badly if Harry would go out with Malfoy, literally, what is there to stop him? Things they said and did years ago, when they were kids in a war? Malfoy’s too intriguing for that reason to work.
Harry: We should meet up for coffee
Draco: You’re paying
Harry rolls his eyes again but his heart races. This might be a disaster, it still might be a prank from Malfoy’s side, but it maybe… could also be something good. Something light, something fun. And if Malfoy would turn out to be Harry’s soulmate, at least he could always use it against Ginny, proving he wouldn’t find them through a screen because Harry didn’t actually meet him online.