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Draco was storming around the dungeons on a beautiful Tuesday morning. He could not believe Pansy and Blaise would say those things! Some friends they were, being rude and intollerable. He had half a mind to storm right back up to the Slytherin dormitories and tell them so.
He had almost convinced himself to turn around when Snape's bored drawl came from behind. “Malfoy,” Draco turned to face his Head of House.
“Yes sir?” Draco reposed snapily, he was not in the mood for this, he was busy planning revenge on his so called best friends.
Snape raised an eyebrow but didn't mention it, he had more important things to deal with. “Where is Potter?”
Draco stops for a second, now meeting Snape’s eyes. “Why the hell would I know?” Draco demands. “I’m not his keeper.” Snape simply raised his other eyebrow, a look of disbelief on his face. Draco glared for a second more before huffing. “He’s in the hospital wing,” he said as forcefully as possible, hoping Snape would get the message.
Snape nodded and turned around, walking off without another word. Draco let himself glare at the spot his godfather had just stood, irritated that his scheming had been interrupted. Then he went back to angrily thinking about Blaise and Pansy laughing at him and slinging around all kinds of horrible and grotesque suggestions.
~_~_~_~
The mid-day heat had settled itself snugly into the castle as Transfigurations began. McGonagall swept her eyes over the room, silently taking roll while strutting down the isles.
Harry was having quite the Wednesday morning. First off he’d been woken up to the sounds of yelling coming from the common room, a fifth year couple that had been bickering all week finally broke and had a screaming match at 7 in the morning. Which was just wonderful to have to deal with, he honestly loved it so much, wow did he wish more people would yell at each other as the sun was rising.
Secondly, breakfast was terrible. Not the food, the food was great, the house elves were wonderful chefs. But what was wrong was the fact that he didn’t even get to finish his toast by the time Hermione was quite literally dragging him away to go to the library. He didn’t even know how she was able to have the energy to read through half the books in the Charms section so early, especially since he saw her maybe eat like one bite of food that morning.
And lastly, he had heard some hufflepuff girls gossiping about him in the hallway. Now, usually, at this point in his life, gossip rarely got to him. He’d heard it all, from speculations on his tattoos to him apparently marrying into the British royal family, he had basically become desensitised to it. But this rumour, it was irritating. According to it, he was dating Pansy Parkinson.
Which, first of all, ew. Secondly, how in Merlins grey beard did they come up with that? Like, that was so far out there, and wrong, and he couldn’t even imagine it.
Him, dating a Slytherin.
Gross.
So to say his mind was elsewhere this morning was an understatement. That’s why when McGonagall called on him suddenly, he jumped a bit.
“Mr. Potter,” she addressed him formally, “where is Mr. Malfoy this morning?”
Harry, who again, was very busy mentally, answered without hesitation. “He accidentally slept in this morning.” Then he frowned at that.
If Slytherins were anything, they were punctual. And the fact that his roommate (yes Slytherins only roomed with one other person, the lucky bastards) hadn’t woken him up was strange. Granted he had been looking very tired lately, so maybe him getting an extra hour was for the best. Harry could recall seeing huge black bags under Draco’s eyes yesterday, and well, that wasn’t a good look on him.
While thinking all of this, he missed the class reaction to his answer. Half of them were taken back, the other half gossiping to each other about this new instalment of their rivalry. Hermione just looked done with life, while Ron slammed his head into his desk.
Harry went back to thinking about other things, namely whatever the hell Draco was up to to make him so tired, that he only briefly thought it was odd that McGonagall had asked him, when Pansy was sitting behind him.
~_~_~_~
Apparently, there was a new rumour flying around. That Harry was secretly dating Pansy.
The thought of that alone sent Draco into another internal rant about how Pansy was a bitch and she’d ever date Harry, no matter how handsome or athletically inclined or powerful. He’d rather die than see Harry with Pansy in a, gag , romantic way. That was just-no! Just no! Gross. Unfathomable.
He continued his rant as he strode towards where he knew Harry would be walking soon, because he had not been able to make fun of him all day and it was upsetting that he hadn’t seen Harry’s face that day.
In a negative way! Like, his stupid face! ‘Cause it was stupid! And Gross! Harry fucking Potter and his gross face and horrible laugh and irritating care-free smile.
Draco couldn’t wait to see him.
In a rival sort of way!
~_~_~_~
Ginny had been acting weird, Harry noted at lunch. Usually she’d make her way to their spot at the Gryffindor table at least once to heckle Ron and chat with Hermione, but today she was just looking at him, like staring. And honestly he thought she was over the whole staring at him thing, but apparently not. Because that was what she was doing currently. And it was kinda creeping him out. Her eyes were slightly narrowed and she was frowning slightly and-
Was walking right towards him.
Harry's heart almost stopped. If anything, Ginny was terrifying. She was like Mrs. Weasley, and that was heart-stoppingly horrifying in itself. So with her, walking to him, with a glare, almost made him shit his pants.
“Harry,” she started, “can we talk?” He blinked and looked around. “Privately?” She added, walking off, not waiting for his answer.
Harry swallowed hard, but followed her out to the corridor. He saw her standing there, a look of determination on her face. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, er, what’s up?” He asked lamely.
Ginny took a deep breath, steading herself. “Harry,” she said cautiously, “are you, by chance, seeing anyone?”
Harry blanked for a moment. Because, what ?
“A, I don’t know, Slytherin?” She pressed, looking at him expectantly. He sputtered out a incerdulus response, because, again, what ?
“No?” He was finally able to choke out. Though it sounded more like a wheeze.
“Harry, you know we’d accept you no matter who you were seeing. Slytherin, or otherwise.” She said gently, as if trying to get him to admit to seeing a Slytherin.
Then it clicked. “Ginny, is this about the rumour that I’m seeing Parkinson? Because if it is, I’m a little offended that you’d believe a rumour like that! You know me, I would never-”
She cut him off by sighing loudly. Then she looked at him like he was dumb or something. Which might not be far off because he was kinda failing Herbology at the moment, and that took some serious talent to do.
She took another breath, this time to calm herself. “Hermione was right.” She whispered irritably.
“Right about what?”
She just shook her head, then turned around, leaving him in the corridor alone.
Harry could help but wander what the fuck that was about.
~_~_~_~
Draco usually wasn’t out this late. Sure he had some nightly adventures every now and again, mostly involving Potter. Okay that sounded wrong. What he meant was, he was only out this late if he was watching Potter. His ‘Potter Watch’ Pansy always called it to his chagrin.
But tonight was different. He wasn’t out and about to spy on Potter. Though Draco figured he was still the reason he was lurking in the corridors so long after curfew.
Draco couldn’t force himself to sit still. Because of that blasted rumour making its way across Hogwarts like a leprechaun on fire tossing cockroach clusters into Mcgonagall's classroom. That is to say, very fast and very loudly.
He knew it wasn’t true. He had first-hand evidence that Pansy was “not dating that glasses wearing goody-two-shoes Gryffindork that haunts your wet dreams, Draco.” Whatever that meant.
And it was bothering him. So much. Like, it was outrageous! In fact the first time he had heard it he exclaimed very loudly “that’s absurd!” And then angrily went about the rest of his day.
That was where he found himself now, haunting the castle in the dark like a bloody fucking vampire. And to make matters worse he couldn’t get Harry out of his head. Every fucking thought was about Harry Freaking Potter, the literal sun. Like, ugh! Thinking about Harry was stupid and annoying and made him feel, gag , emotions. And as a teenage boy, emotions sucked , and Harry sucked, and life sucked, and-
He bumped into something solid while turning a corner and stumbled back.
“Fuck, sorry I-” A too familur voice said from in front of him.
Draco lifted his head to glare at Harry. “Watch it, Potter.” Draco hissed at him, careful not to raise his voice, because, after all, it was still after hours and Draco would rather eat his own trousers before having to face Pansy and Blaise if he got caught.
“Malfoy?” Harry asked in confusion, letting his emotions show on his face. Honestly did no one ever teach him that letting your heart on your sleeve was a bad idea? “What are you doing out?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” He deflected, because there was no way in Merlin’s Blue Balls that he was going to answer that question in any honest way.
Harry just rolled his eyes and looked at him like he was a particularly dumb child who couldn’t even shit by himself yet. “Whatever.”
Ouch. “Fine.” Draco responded. Because Harry Potter just dismissed him like he was nothing more than a fangirl of his! How rude! Draco started to walk off again, angrier than before, but thinking about Harry nonetheless because he was right there , standing in a moonlit corridor alone and looking at Draco and-
A grumpy voice sounded from the next corridor, talking in a grossly sweet and scratchy voice, “Hear any students Mrs. Norris? Anybody out of bed tonight?”
Fuck .
A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him into a broom cupboard. The door closed swiftly but softly as to not alert Filch and his cat. The vice like grip did not let go, and a hand was clasped over him mouth, making it hard to breathe.
Not that he could breathe anyway because Harry fucking Potter was pressed up against him in a very small broom cupboard.
One could say they were in the closet together.
Draco’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of the cupboard, and he blinked a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t just imagining anything. Because if he was being honest with himself, this was not far from some of the things that crossed his mind. But he was decidedly not being honest with himself, that was Pansy and Blaise’s job.
The sound of shuffling footsteps sounded outside the door Harry had just shut, only pausing briefly to chuckle at something. Creepy . Then the steps continued past the door and down the corridor, and then retreating into a different part of the castle. It was only then that Draco felt Harry’s shoulder relax and the hand over his mouth lifted.
Draco let out a shaky breath, trying to regain his composure. But that was really hard because Harry was still pressed up against him, their short breaths mingling in the hot air of the dark cupboard. Draco’s heart was beating sporadically, and it felt like he was going to combust.
Harry looked towards him, a smirk on his face and Draco paled.
Harry’s eyes were so green they shone in the dark, like twinkling gems in the sunlight. They were the purest shade of emerald Draco had ever seen, with so many layers Draco thought he would get lost in them if he was allowed to.
Fuck.
“What no ‘thank you’?” Harry said smugly, his smirk still sitting arrogantly on his face. There was a time Draco would think that Harry was arrogant all the time, seeking attention, but now Draco knew Harry wasn’t like that. He knew Harry was kind and strong and brave. He knew that, and it frightened him.
Because when the fuck did that happen?
Draco scoffed in response, “fuck off.”
“Not until you thank me.” He simply stated. Draco’s stomach turned inside out and threatened to claw its way up into his mouth and then promptly spit out onto Harry’s face.
“Oh of course,” Draco said, trying to sound as sarcastic as possible while also dying because Harry had still not moved! “Oh Saint Potter, I thank you greatly for shoving me up against a wall and keeping me in a room with you!” Draco performed like he was the lead of a Shakspearian drama.
Even though it was dark in the cupboard, Draco could see Harry’s dark skin flush out of either anger or embarrassment.
(It was neither).
Then Harry opened the door and walked out, not another word spoken in Draco’s direction. He couldn’t help but feel hurt. I mean, he had put on that wonderful performance, and Harry didn’t even have the decency to tell him to ‘fuck off’.
The room suddenly felt empty, and Draco felt cold.
Some vile small part of him almost wanted Harry to come back. Meaning his entire being burned with longing and Draco felt himself slump to the floor.
Salazar, he hated when Pansy and Blaise were right.
~_~_~_~
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK-
“Fuck.”
“Harry? Are you okay?” Hermione asked, leaning forward over her book.
“Yeah, mate. You said that with a lot of feeling.” Ron added in unhelpfully, his mouth partially full with whatever he had stashed in his robes.
Harry made the noncommittal noise of a microwave instead of answering. Oh to be a microwave, a simple life of heating bowls and leaving food cold, not having to deal with whatever the fuck is going on his head.
Because mmmmmm Draco bloody Malfoy was bloody fucking hot and when the fuck did that happen?!
Hermione blinked a couple of times. “Harry,” she started slowly, “what happened?” She closed her book and set it off to the side, telling Harry there was no getting out of this conversation.
Harry groaned, he really didn’t want to talk about it ‘cause his entire world had just shattered. Because Draco Malfoy was hot. Draco Malfoy was really hot.
“‘Mione, leave him alone, he’ll tell us when he’s ready.” Ron said, now sitting upside down, eating a sandwich Harry had not previously seen. Harry sent a grateful smile Ron’s way, glad at least one of his best friends knew him well enough to know when to shut up.
“Fine,” Hermione agreed begrudgingly, “but you know you can tell us anything, right Harry? We’ll always be there for you, no matter what you’re going through.”
Harry gave a half hearted smile. He had good friends.
“Even if it’s something terrible, like realising you’re in love with Malfoy or something.” Ron added, jokingly.
“Ronald!” Hermione reprimanded, then she went on a tirade, but Harry wasn’t paying much attention.
You’re in love with Malfoy.
In love with Malfoy.
Holy blood balls he was in love with Draco Malfoy.
When the FUCK did that happen?!
~_~_~_~
Draco was avoiding Harry like the plague. Whenever Harry was somewhere, Draco wasn’t. Quite literally Draco would see Harry and immediately turn around and march off in the opposite direction, much to Pansy and Blaise’s amusement.
Because Draco really liked Harry. Like really liked. Like, like liked.
Like, yeah.
So anyway, Draco was avoiding Harry. Oh, Harry was in the Great Hall? Wonderful, Draco wanted to see the house elves anyway. We have double potions with the Gryffindors? Haha, oh, ya’ know what, Draco’s head kinda hurts, maybe he’ll go get that checked out. Harry was in the corridor walking towards him? Ballocks, Draco forgot his bookbag in Herbology, darn.
Problem solved!
“You’re avoiding Harry.” Problem not solved.
Draco turned to face Granger, her bushy hair was in a loose bun and she looked more tired than usual, not that Draco cared, but she was top of their class, she should take better care of herself. Moisturise or something . “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stated matter-of-factly.
Granger just hummed thoughtfully and continued to stare at him. They were in the library, because Draco had seen Harry head outside, and as much as Draco loved to sit by the lake, he knew Harry would never voluntarily come up to the library.
“Can I help you with something?” Draco snarled as she sat down and folded her arms on the table.
“I’m glad you asked.” Draco groaned at her answer. “You see, you’re avoiding Harry.”
Draco simply raised an eyebrow. “No, I’m not. I’m above such childish things.”
She just hummed again and stared at him. Draco stared right back, not willing to break under Granger's thoughtful gaze. “You know,” she said after some time, “you were a better liar when you were younger.”
Draco sputtered because he was a very good liar, thank you very much.
“But that’s besides the point,” Granger dismissed his stuttering. “The thing is, Harry’s noticed the fact that you’re avoiding him. And Harry is the most oblivious person I’ve ever met. He didn’t even realise that Dean and Seamus were together until Ron told him. Like he saw them on dates and kissing he just thought, ‘wow, such good friends’.” Granger ranted a little. She took a deep breath and focused on Draco again. “So the fact that he noticed means that it’s bad.”
“And this is my problem, why?” Draco raised an eyebrow at the tired witch in front of him.
“So you are avoiding him?” Granger pressed, Draco glared but didn’t try to deny it. “What happened between you two?”
“Nothing.” Draco answered quickly. Nothing happened. Nothing. At all. Nada. Zilch. Zero things happened between them.
Granger hummed, again. “Sure. Nothing happened between the two of you, and everything is fine. Yep. Harry said the same thing.” She nodded sagely, like she knew something he didn’t. Which was probably true in a broad sense, but it still hurt. “Except you said it without blushing terribly and stuttering, so, good for you.”
Oh, well, that was a lovely piece of information that did its job. Draco’s normally pale face flushed a bright shade of red and he sputtered for the second time in the last five minutes. His father will never hear of this .
“Anyway,” Granger said, getting up and picking up her bag, “lovely chatting with you.” She turned on her heel. With one last glance behind her she called out to him, “and please sort this out with Harry soon, he’s been moping.”
Draco was suddenly jealous of Granger’s darker skin, he bet it hid blushes much better than his porcelain tone.
~_~_~_~
Harry was not moping. He was simply coming to terms with the fact that he was in love with Draco Lucius Malfoy.
He was so fucked.
Because it was not like he could tell Draco that he was in love with him. That would go just wonderfully.
“Oh Draco! I love you! Always had! Please say you’ll have me!” Harry would say, on his knees, hands help out pleadingly.
Draco would raise one perfectly styled eyebrow and sneer. “You? In love with me?” Then he’d laugh evilly, the git. “As if! Never, you bumbling begging buffoon. I’m too posh for the likes of you.”
Then the world would catch on fire and Hermoine and Ron would also be laughing because he looked absolutely pitiful begging like that.
So, yeah, he would not be telling anyone anytime soon. Or so he thought.
“Harry, mate,” Ron said as he sat down and started eating chocolate he pulled from his pockets. “You look terrible.” Harry just snorted, well yeah . “Is this because you’ve finally realised you’re desperately in love with Malfoy?”
Harry froze like a deer that was hit by a fucking plane. Literally died. What the fuck.
Ron snorted and reached into his bookbag, pulling out an entire bucket of popcorn. “Took you long enough. I mean, I've had to watch you two dance around each other for two fuckin’ years, mate.” Ron shook his head good naturedly at Harry’s look of utter horror. “Yeah, the entirety of fourth year was horrendous. Puberty hit both of you guys, and don’t forget about the Yule Ball. You couldn’t stop staring at the bloody git.”
Harry made a very unmanly squeak. Ron just stared at him, waiting for him to respond. “Er.” He said intelligently.
Ron just smiled and put his popcorn back up before standing and leaving Harry dumbstruck.
Well, that went well.
~_~_~_~
It took about three more days before Draco and Harry saw each other again. It was unplanned and eerily similar to the last time they saw each other.
Draco was stalking around the castle, trying to clear his mind. He’d been having some wonderful conversations with his friends about him and his feelings, gag .
But, hey, what could a guy do?
Besides, it wasn’t that bad, Pansy had made him hot chocolate and Blaise let him sit in his favourite spot by the fireplace in their dorm, so you win some you lose some.
Draco was lost in thought when he rounded a corner and bumped into something solid. It wasn’t enough force to make him fall down, but when he looked up to see who it was, he couldn’t breathe.
Harry fucking Potter.
“Hello.” Harry said after a few seconds of awkward silence. It was a stiff greeting and Draco didn’t even respond. Instead the two boys stared at each other in the bright moonlight.
Harry’s eyes sparkled like gems as if they were in the sun instead of in the dark of night. His glasses were precariously perched on the end of his nose, and his wild curly hair was spilling onto his face. Harry’s face looked as if it was chiseled from stone in the pale light of the almost full moon, shadows cutting across the tan skin of his jaw and cheek bones. And oh, how did Draco never see it before?
Harry opened his mouth to say something when Filch's voice cackled from the corridor over. Harry grabbed Draco’s arm and pulled him silently into another broom closet. Their bodies pressed together and Draco felt like he was burning. Everywhere he was pressed into Harry’s body was on fire, jolts of electricity racing straight to his heart. His heart, oh his heart. It beat widely and was pumping so fast Draco was sure it would explode with whatever the fuck Harry was doing to him.
Fitch passed slowly, and eventually Harry turned towards him, his eyes still bright even in the darkness of the small cupboard. Once again Draco found himself speechless staring at Harry Potter.
All he could do was reach his hand out slowly, and press Harry’s glasses up his nose, fixing them for him. Harry sent him a small smile, and Draco’s heart felt like it gave out.
Oh, how did he never see it before?
~_~_~_~
Harry and Draco often laugh about how they ended up together, and their friends laugh along with them.
“I told you so.” Became a common phrase both of them heard from their friends after they got together. But they didn’t really care much, because their friends were right. They did tell them so.
But no one makes fun of the way they look at each other.
Harry looks at Draco like he hung the stars. That his name sake was embodied in him, and nothing could compare to the flames of his passion and determination. Harry looked at Draco with such adoration.
And Draco looked at Harry as if Harry was water after a lifetime in the desert. His only reprieve from the blaring son and hot days. Like Harry was wholly something beautiful and strong, a proud lion and bright soul.
They looked at each other with such love, no one dared to laugh.
Minerva McGonagall won a very large betting pool.