Chapter Text
The first time that Harry saw Draco he thought he was the most annoying first year in the entire school. Then he cursed the sorting hat for making him a Slytherin.
“Hi, Theodore!! Look, look, look!!” The eleven year old said and gave a little twirl.
Nott smiled widely and Harry raised an eyebrow.
“Your father must be proud, Draco.”
“Yes!! Daddy said he would get me a Nimbus 2000 if I got into Slytherin.” He exclaimed proudly as he took a sit in front of them.
Daddy.
Harry snorted. They were at school, the Slytherins would eat him alive if he kept acting like a spoiled little brat.
“Hi! It’s nice to meet you!” He says offering him a very delicate hand. “You must be Harry, Theodore talked about you in his letters. I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”
“Call me Potter.” He says just nodding his way, making him lower his hand all together.
“Why?”
“Oh, only the Weasleys call him Harry.” Nott explained to him.
“Is it because your name is muggle?”
Harry froze for a moment before Nott intervened.
“Draco, you can’t hang out with us if you say that stuff.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. My godfather hates his muggle lastname, I thought it could be something like that.”
Harry didn’t know who his godfather was but he had just decided that he couldn’t stand any words that came out of the blond boy’s mouth.
“My mother was a muggleborn, and she chose that name.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you-“
He took a last bite and stood up from the table.
“I’ll see what Ron is up to.”
Draco’s grey doe eyes were looking at him, his cheeks pink from the embarrassment. Nott just nodded and said that he was going to stay a little longer on the Slytherin table.
Harry marched off to the Gryffindor table.
Draco started to hang out with them more once Nott and him started to date. Why would his friend commit to a bratty ridiculous thirteen year-old boy was a mystery. To be honest, Nott was never the smartest out of the three of them so it didn’t surprised him either.
Their relationship was basically Draco bitching about everything, Nott hiding from him and then finding them making out in a brooms closet.
Still... seeing them made Harry think about his own love life. He kind of wanted to have someone, you know? But he wanted someone who he could talk to, someone who was smart and passioned and maybe good at quidditch...
His eyes slightly diverted to look at Ginny. They had been getting along better now that she could actually formulate a sentence to talk to him. This last summer he had spent it almost everyday with her.
Christmas was coming up and he knew that Dean was going to ask her out on New Year’s Eve. Dean didn’t have the whole ‘don’t date your best friend’s sister’ problem like he had.
They were all hanging out next to the lake, Nott and Ron were trying to teach Mione to actually stay on a broom while Ginny kept telling them that they sucked and that they were terrible teachers. Harry gave out trying to teach Hermione anything quidditch related a long time ago.
Draco was doing his homework next to him. He always tried to take his books everywhere to keep his marks up but still be, as he would call it, a good boyfriend and hang out with Nott’s friends.
Harry wished the boy would just hang out with people his own age. It was so lame to have a third year tagging along with them everywhere they went. But the last time he said something about it, Nott just pointed out that Ginny was a fourth year and he wasn’t making a fuss about it. Clearly, he wasn’t. Harry wanted to snog Ginny but he didn’t want to snog Draco. He didn’t even want to see Draco snog with any living creature, much less with his fifteen year-old friend, honestly.
“Hey, Draco. Come here for a second.” He gestured for him to sit besides him. The blond boy blinked, surprised. Most of the times they only fought so he was wary of getting close.
In the end he grabbed his bag and took a few steps forward before dropping everything besides him.
“Look, Potter, if you want to make out with me the answer it’s probably no.”
He felt his cheeks burn and turned to look at the boy.
“What? NO-“
“I’m just saying-“
“Can you shut up?” Draco pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows, doing that face that Harry found sometimes cute before the blond boy ended up talking and ruining it. “I want to give this girl a Christmas present-“
“Oh for Salazar, it’s Ginny.”
“it’s not Ginny.”
“Fine. it’s not Ginny. How much do you have?”
Well, technically he was rich but because he wasn’t allow to access his vault entirely until he was of age...
“Eight galleons.”
“You don’t deserve a girl like Ginny for eight galleons!”
“You know what? Forget it.”
He ended up framing a picture he liked that they had taken the first Christmas he had spent at the Weasleys. Both of them with the jumper that Mrs. Weasley had knitted for them and a golden snitch flying around the two of them. Ginny loved it. And the framing only took eight galleons. Draco Malfoy could go fuck himself.
Ron was freaking out about the bloody Yulle ball, Harry was just glad he wasn’t going at all.
“This is it, mate. Years and years and now this it the night.”
“The night where you chicken out again?”
His best friend aimed to punch him in the arm but he quickly moved away, laughing.
They were in the Gryffindor common room, most of the time Harry spent his time there, a snake in the lion’s den, but he liked it. It was cozy there, and it reminded him of the Burrow a little bit.
Draco entered the common room, probably because now that Hermione and him were friends she just kept giving him the password. Nott and him had been broken up for a month; when he first heard of it, Harry had this stupid fantasy that they would never have to speak to Draco again. He was wrong.
He sat on the couch next to them, sighing very loudly. Ron and him shared a look before choosing to ignore him. Draco sighed even louder.
“Is there something wrong?” He asked because he really wished the boy would just go away.
“Theodore is going to the Yulle ball with stupid Pansy Parkinson.”
Good for Nott, actually going with someone his own age (kind of, she was a year older but at least she wasn’t a third year), and Parkinson was hot.
“So?” Ron asked annoyed.
“So, I told him I was going too, with someone better looking and smarter and better than him.”
“Who?”
“I don’t have anybody, Potter! It was obviously a lie.” He threw himself dramatically on the free space of the couch. “Now I have to get someone to take me but the Ball is in two days, everyone already have dates.”
Harry snorted and nodded.
“Sounds about right.”
Then, something seemed to flashed through his grey stormy eyes. Fuck.
“Wait, Potter! You are not going!”
“Exactly.”
“Oh, come on! I’ll pay for everything. The robes, whatever you need, the haircut even.”
Harry gave him an incredulous look. It was so bloody unbelievable how naturally skilled he was to insult someone in the middle of a conversation.
“I have robes, I just don’t want to be near you.”
Ron sent him a look. Most of the times he hated Draco as much as he did, but the redhead had this protective thing about the boy, probably because he was the youngest of the group. Harry shrugged, Draco was a big boy.
But when he turned to look at him, the blond boy had his face all red. Tears were escaping his grey (some would say beautiful) eyes, before the sobbing began. Soon enough, Draco had threw himself on Harry, wetting his uniform with the bloody tears and muttering things like ‘Theodore is going to shag her’ ‘I’m such a bad person, that’s why he left me’ ‘Everyone will laugh at me!’, all in this very awkward combination of crying and high pitch tone that didn’t suit him at all.
He looked at Ron, gesturing him to do something but the redhead just made a face like he didn’t have a clue about how to calm him down.
The crying just wasn’t stopping and he needed for it to go away.
“LOOK, DO YOU WANT TO GO TO THE YULE BALL?”
And the sobbing stopped instantly. He had been tricked, hadn’t he?
“Yes...” Draco said as he cleaned the tears away with his hands. “Meet me at the entrance hall at seven!” A smug smile on his lips as he almost skipped to the door.
When he had dissapeared, Ron looked at him.
“Mate, Nott is going to kill you.” Harry just shrugged.
“Maybe this would get his head out of his arse and they can get back together.”
And they had. After dancing a few slow songs with Draco, laughing as they chose who was the worst couple at the ball, and earning a few murderous looks from Nott... He ended up talking with his friend to make him get back with the blond boy.
He ended up snogging Parkinson, so he wasn’t really complaining. The little uncomfortable feeling in his stomach was probably something he ate.