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In all its centuries of educating young witches and wizards, Hogwarts had hardly had a Christmas without heavy snowfall; and yet, somehow, the phenomenon never became less enchanting.
Harry, however, could not have been feeling more sour. He hated all of this attention, he hated that his friends were arguing again, and, more than anything, he hated this stupid ball. Across the hall from him and Ron, Cedric and Cho were swaying together, their smiles peaceful,their eyes sparkling- they looked nothing less than utterly happy. And Harry couldn’t stand it.
“Mate.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re staring again.”
“And?” said Harry. “You were staring at Padma earlier.”
“No,” said Ron. “I was glaring . I was pissed off. You’re staring . Got a crush on someone, eh?”
Harry jerked.
“No! I mean, you know, Cedric’s pretty and all, but I’m not- like, if he asked I- why would you- ?”
“Christ, Harry, I was talking about Cho.”
“Oh.” Oops. He shifted in his seat. “Yeah. Her too.”
Ron, however, appeared to have stopped listening, instead choosing to glare daggers at Neville and Ginny, who were getting punch together on the other side of the room.
Taking the opportunity to zone out, Harry leant against the back of his chair, a strange mixture of panic and relief washing over him. He still hadn’t figured out the secret of the egg, and, to top it off, he’d almost let on to Ron that he sort of, kind of, might fancy guys. Although he had no reason to believe Ron would have a problem with it (on the contrary, in fact- Ginny had began to transition this year, and Ron was acting as though she had always been known as a girl), this didn’t stop a nagging worry at the very back of his mind. What if Ron thought he was being creepy towards him? As much as he knew, deep down, that this would not be the case, it didn’t stop him thinking it. One day, he’d tell Ron. Just maybe not today.
Something startled Harry out of his own little world: a brush of dress robes against his leg; a flash of blond across his vision; somewhat heavy breathing, and what sounded like a sob.
Harry wasn’t sure why he followed the person- part of him just wanted something to do, and Ron wasn’t exactly great company tonight. But he did. He followed them out, into the Entrance Hall, through the castle doors, and out into the chilling, icy air.
Fuck.
It was Malfoy.
“Oi. Malfoy.” Possibly not the best way to address someone so clearly upset, but what was Harry meant to do? Be nice ? Malfoy would’ve done the same.
He wheeled around.
“What the fuck do you want? Think it’s funny, do you? Following me out here, to make fun of me?”
“You’d make fun of me! And that’s not why I- look, I didn’t even realise it was you.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t have cared if you’d known, would you? No, you would’ve been perfectly happy to just let me wallow if that were the case.”
“Then wallow!” said Harry, slightly pissed off that he hadn’t just turned around when he’d seen who this was. Malfoy gave him a funny look. “Or...I mean...what’s wrong, I guess?”
Malfoy glanced around, relaxing slightly. He loosened his collar- Harry shivered; was it not cold enough outside anyway? He brought his arm up to dry his eyes with his sleeve, and looked up, staring just past Harry’s ear, avoiding any direct eye contact.
“Just tired, I think. My friends are all still in there, dancing and stuff. Told them I needed fresh air.” He paused. “What’s it to you?”, Malfoy added, with a half-hearted attempt at his usual sneer.
“Nothing to me,” said Harry. “Don’t care. Would’ve felt weird leaving you to cry though. It didn’t sit right. Draco Malfoy crying.”
Malfoy gave what might’ve been a laugh, but could equally have been a scoff.
“In a public place, no less.”
They were both quiet for a time after this, standing, alone together, in the gently falling snow. Neither could really think of what to say.
And then, Harry had an idea. A terrible one, sure, but an idea nonetheless.
Malfoy hated him anyway, right? So what would there be to lose if he just...practised telling Ron on him? (In hindsight, Harry would come to realise that Hermione or Ginny should’ve been the more obvious option. But, he supposed, something about being in the snow, freezing to death with a boy who looked much prettier than you remembered, did something to addle the brain.)
“Malfoy?”
“Ugh. What.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I think you’re cunt.”
“Likewise.”
“I just...need to get something off my chest.”
“Not coming out to me, are you Potter? Cause I kind of already knew.”
“Well I… Huh ?” Harry paused. He’d been ready to either launch into a speech, run away, or take a swing at Malfoy. Anything to make this less awkward. But what could Malfoy mean, he already knew ?
“Oh, don’t worry,” Malfoy said- there was his air of superiority back again, his note of confidence in every syllable he spoke. “It’s not as though Weasley would’ve caught on or anything, he’s got the observational skills of a tired troll- then again, you’re not much brighter.” Harry began to protest. “ However , Potter, some of us pay attention to more than just the two feet in front of us.”
“You- you know ?”
Malfoy paused- then burst out laughing. It was, Harry thought, quite a pretty sound, despite who it was coming from.
“Of course I didn’t, Potter! You should’ve seen your face!” He grinned- it was the first genuine smile Harry could remember seeing from him. “But, oh- you do like guys, don’t you?”
Well, Harry thought, it’s not as though lying was worth it at this point .
“Yeah.”
“And you were gonna...tell me?”
“...Yeah. For...practise, or something. I don’t even know.”
Malfoy arched an eyebrow.
“You’ve not been drinking any of that firewhisky Montague smuggled in, have you?”
“No. Almost wish I had, though,” Harry said. “Could do with a foggy brain sometimes. Listen, just forget I said anything, I don’t really need Rita Skeeter finding out about...any of this. I should go inside, Ron might’ve noticed I’m gone by now.”
He turned to leave, but almost fell over at the strength with which Malfoy pulled him backwards. Skinny as he was, he appeared to be unnervingly strong.
“Woah!” Harry flailed for the nearest thing to grab onto- Malfoy’s shoulder.
“Potter, why would you- !”
WHAM.
Next thing Harry knew, he was lying on top of Draco Malfoy, his robes covered in snow, his breathing becoming more and more uneven.
“Oopsie-daisy,” said Malfoy. “Didn’t think that one through, huh?”
Harry lifted his torso up slightly, their faces still close enough that Harry could feel Malfoy’s warm breath against him.
“What was it you wanted, Malfoy?”
“Well,” said Malfoy. “I was gonna tell you that I like guys too, so you had nothing to worry about but...given the current circumstances it just feels inappropriate now…Potter?- oh !”
But Harry couldn’t stop himself as he closed in on Malfoy’s lips, and the relief he felt as Malfoy kissed back only encouraged him.
It wasn’t exactly a film-worthy kiss, it had to be said. However, as far as kisses go, Harry was sure it couldn’t have been that bad. (Not that he had anything to compare it to- Harry realised, at that moment, that he was having his first kiss with Malfoy, of all people.)
They pulled apart not long after they had started- neither of them had forgotten that they were in public. Malfoy pulled Harry up to stand, and they each brushed off their dress robes.
And then there was silence.
“I guess you should go then,” said Malfoy, nodding towards the castle. “Weasley and everything.”
“And you?”
“I’m staying out here for a bit...never did get round to clearing my head.”
So, not really sure what else to do, Harry started back up to the Great Hall.
A few steps later, however, he paused.
“Malfoy?”
“Yeah?”
“Uh...Merry Christmas.”
It was hard to be sure in the pitch black night, but Harry thought he saw Malfoy slightly blush.
“Yeah. You too, Potter.”