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Sat around the campfire, sufficiently buzzed from the beer they’d had, Harry turned to Draco with a grin. Everyone else had already retreated to their tents for the night but Harry wasn’t ready for bed yet. “Wanna play odds on?” He asked him.
Draco frowned, “How drunk are you? That’s not a sentence,” he huffed.
Harry chuckled, “It’s a muggle game. I give you a scenario, you give me a range and if we both say the same number, you have to do it. C’mon, it’ll be fun!”
Draco sighed dramatically, hiding a smile. “Fine, if I must.”
“Odds on you eating that marshmallow on the floor.”
“One in twenty”
Harry laughed, “That’s too easy. Do one in ten. Ready? Three, two, one… eight,” he said as Draco said three, smirking triumphantly.
“My turn. Odds on you stealing Granger’s precious itinerary.”
“Hmm, I reckon one in five,” he grinned, up for a challenge.
They continued playing, coming up with more and more ridiculous scenarios and trying to muffle their laughter, until the stars had nearly disappeared into the rising daylight. Harry turned to stare at him intently. “Odds on you kissing me,” he said, quieter than before.
Draco didn’t bother to answer, just leant in and kissed him as the warm summer night transformed into day.