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It was early Saturday morning, Neville still snoring. Harry had just woken up and drew the curtains on his four-poster, peering out the window. The sky was clear blue and there seemed to be a certain crisp quality of the air that seemed perfect for flying.
Today, the Gryffindors play Slytherin in Quidditch. Harry's stomach rumbled with hunger as he stepped out of his bed and changed into black jeans and the red sweater Mrs. Weasley made him last year.
He walked down into the common room, meeting Ron and Hermione.
"Sleep well, Harry? Well rested for Quidditch today?" Ron asked enthusiastically. The trio set off for the portrait hole.
"Yeah, I actually slept pretty well for a change. I'm ready to crush Malfoy."
Hermione scoffed. "Harry, you should focus on catching the snitch. As much as I'd like to see you crush Malfoy, you can't let distractions like him ruin Gryffindor's chances of winning the Quidditch Cup."
"'Distractions like Malfoy'? Hermione, he's the other seeker! Harry should be keeping an eye on him!" Ron exclaimed.
Oh, Harry has definitely been keeping an eye on him.
"No, Hermione's right-"
"Per usual," Ron scoffed.
"-I should ignore him and focus on the snitch instead."
They walked down from the seventh floor and towards the Great Hall. Multiple portraits wished Harry "Good luck!" however some glared at him. Soon, they made their way to the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table.
They ate toast and oatmeal, talking to Fred and George about their newest invention. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was rowdy, every student and teacher seemed to be buzzing with anticipation.
Harry drank pumpkin juice from a goblet, as his mouth was unusually dry due to nerves.
"You ready for the match today, Harry?" a voice said from directly behind him. He flinched and juice spilled all over the front of his sweater.
"You nearly gave him a heart attack, Creevey!" Ron scolded. The smaller boy ran away in fear of Ron.
"It's alright, I need to change into my Quidditch robes anyways. I'll see you guys later."
Harry hurried off to the dormitories, trying (and failing) to mop up the stain in his sweater with a napkin. The large stain over the wool "H" still remained.
"Longbottom throw up on your sweater, Potter? Snape look in his direction again?" A familiar voice taunted with a laugh.
Malfoy.
Harry ignored him, using Hermione's advice.
"Ah, I see how it is. I get the silent treatment. You scared, Potter? You should be."
Harry's face was heating up with anger, but he kept walking. How he managed to develop a crush on Malfoy was a question even Harry couldn't answer when Draco could be this annoying.
He heard Malfoy's footsteps behind him, but not Crabbe and Goyle's.
"Your boyfriends ditch you again?" He finally gave in, walking faster just in case. He didn't want to make a gay joke but he couldn't think of anything else.
There was silence for a few moments before Malfoy said, "They aren't my- my boyfriends. C'mon Potter, you of all people should know I have better taste than that."
Harry's breath hitched and he slowed down a little. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, turning around. But Malfoy was already gone.
————
The match started as normal. Every house was dressed in crimson and gold except Slytherin; the school seemed to have a mutual dislike of them for good reason.
Lee commentated per usual with Professor McGonagall there to keep him in check.
When Gryffindor was down twenty points, Hardy glimpsed the snitch, which looked more like a fleck of gold.
He accelerated and saw a flash of green robes and blonde hair beside him, Malfoy catching up. The two boys' shoulders were rubbing together, their robes whipping around in the wind.
Harry's cheeks flushed and he didn't know if it was because of the cold wind or their closeness.
Focus on the Snitch. Focus on the Snitch. Focus on the Snitch.
Harry squinted, barely able to hear the roaring cheers of the crowd over the howling wind.
Before he could react, a bludger hit the front tip of his Firebolt, Harry slamming into Malfoy and knocking the Slytherin off his broom. Somehow, Harry managed to stay on his broom and leaned forward, grabbing the snitch and winning the game.
As soon as the small gold ball was secured in his hands, Harry flew down to the green heap of robes on the pitch, guilt running through his body.
Was Malfoy alright?
"Ughhh," the blonde groaned, clutching his stomach.
Potter jumped off his broom and knelt beside him. "Malfoy?" Harry said uncertainly, helping Draco into a sitting position.
"Erm- Are you alright?" The Slytherin's face was turning a shade of green similar to the one on his robes. Before Harry could move, Malfoy retched and vomited on him.
He exclaimed in disgust and jumped back, trying to shake the stuff off of his robes.
"You know, now that you asked, I feel a lot better!" Malfoy said with a smirk.
Professor McGonagall ran over to the two boys, both Quidditch teams behind her. "Oh, Malfoy! Are you alright?" He nodded, and she glanced at Harry before doing a double take and giving him an apologetic look.
"Potter!" Wood said happily. "You do realize we won, right? I mean as soon as you caught the snitch, you seemed to be distracted by Malfoy."
Harry was embarrassed and managed to satisfy Wood with a "Haha, yeah," under his breath.
"Malfoy, do me a favor and help Potter wash up," McGonagall asked. Harry's winning smile dropped instantly while Malfoy looked like he wanted to vomit again.
————
Harry was running the outer jacket he wore for Quidditch under the faucet, Malfoy next to him leaning on the tiled wall. The only noise was from the sink, otherwise the two boys were silent. Malfoy wouldn't even make eye contact.
"Uh... I'm sorry for knocking you off your broom. It wasn't my intention." He saw Draco look shocked for a moment before regaining composure.
"Well, I meant to throw up on you," Malfoy jabbed in a matter-of-fact tone.
Harry sighed. "You know, I try and ignore the shit you say to me. I don't hate you. In fact I actually kinda... uh... well, I try to be a good person and apologize, even though I know for a fact you hate my guts. But it never seems to work."
Draco opened and closed his mouth a few times, seemingly unsure of what to say in response.
Harry scrubbed his robes harder. His chances with Malfoy have always been royally fucked up. He could probably kill Voldemort before Draco would like him back.
Harry turned off the water and took off his jersey to wash, his chest now completely bare. Draco wouldn't like him anyways. Might as well make sure he gets the vomit out of all his clothes.
"I'm sorry," Draco said under his breath, still not daring to look at Potter.
Harry froze. Did he actually just say that? "What did you just say?" Malfoy still looked at his shoes.
"Look at me, Draco."
Malfoy sucked in his breath, glancing up a few times before holding eye contact with Harry.
"I'm sorry, alright? Is that what you want me to say?"
"Uh yes," Harry said with a chuckle, "That's exactly what I wanted you to say," as he pulled on a new shirt.
Draco's face turned beet red, warmth spreading to his neck.
"It's not that hard to be a decent person," Harry said in a condescending tone.
Malfoy scoffed, "Uh, it kinda is when you live with the assholes I have to call family. It's like letting a cat live with dogs and then acting surprised when the cat starts barking."
Harry raised a brow. "That happened?"
Malfoy shrugged. "Possibly. Muggles do weird shit, I wouldn't be surprised."
Harry chuckled before going quiet, still scrubbing his clothes.
"You know, Harry, I... I don't hate you... either. The way I feel about you is... is so far from that." Draco rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Harry stopped scrubbing his robes, listening quietly.
"After all these years, I always thought... I always thought that you were the one who hated me. I just... decided to reciprocate, I guess. Out of spite. I kind of decided that I would be the bigger... asshole." He gulped.
Harry flushed. He had never seen this honest, genuine, side of Malfoy before. It was refreshing.
"Uhm- Malfoy. Since the day we met... I had- I've always... um..." Harry trailed off, but luckily Draco took the words out of his mouth.
"I have feelings for you, Potter," he blurted.
Harry's eyes widened and his breath hitched.
"I always have. And... I'm sorry for that. I know you don't like me back because of that... Weasley girl. Hell, you don't even like guys. Honestly I don't know what made me confess. I just- I don't know anymore. Maybe I thought that if you knew... nevermind." Malfoy turned to leave, but Harry grabbed his wrist.
"Draco." The blonde turned around slowly, his cheeks splotched with red, refusing to look at Harry.
Potter gently lifted Draco's chin so that they were making eye contact. "I feel the same way."
Draco's eyebrows shot up, his words seeming to be caught in his throat.
Harry leaned in slowly, their lips almost touching. He could feel Draco's warm breath on his lips.
Malfoy unexpectedly eliminated all space between them, pulling Harry in closer by his lower back.
Their lips connected and Harry smiled through the kiss. He could get used to this.