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Draco didn’t like Fridays. It was not that he liked any of the other days particularly better, but Fridays were especially bothersome. On Fridays, every student seemed to think it was necessary to be lively and happy and loud. Talking about quidditch and how to be spending their free time. Some people actually came back to Hogwarts for their eighth year to study, mind you.
"Malfoy."
Draco sighed inwardly. Bumping into Potter and his little Weasel-Granger entourage on a daily basis when walking through the corridors was not really a surprising event - they had a lot of classes together after all - but it was nonetheless highly irritating. Not only that Potter was the worst of the lot and was practically shoving his happiness into other people's faces. He had also been getting into the habit of greeting Draco and being nice to him (and had apparently convinced the Weasel and Granger to do the same).
"Potter," Draco managed to grumble. He may be annoyed, but that didn’t mean he was above being polite. He also didn’t want to get on Potter’s bad side. But that was a different story.
Even now, Potter seemed to attempt to smile at Draco. Like Draco deserved his kindness. Like they didn't spend years of loathing and attacking each other. But the worst part was that it wasn't even the nice-to-meet-you sort of smile. It was one filled with pity. Potter with his stupid hero complex, wanting to save yet another lost soul.
Draco settled for a scowl and strode past Potter towards the Great Hall for lunch, determined to make Potter stop his stupid quest. He didn't need help. Though he wasn't really sure whether the message came across, since he could have sworn that he heard a low chuckle behind him.
***
Blaise stabbed his sausage with admirable force. It fit Draco's mood perfectly.
"What got your knockers in a twist?"
Draco tried to sound disinterested, though he had developed an alarming amount of caring towards some of his fellow Slytherins. The war had changed them all and Draco could see those changes especially in his roommates’ behavior. Greg was unfamiliarly quiet and withdrawn after Vincent's death. And Blaise on the other hand had shown a surprising empathic side and had grown the habit of helping young Slytherins out. Nott was still a git though.
"They bullied another one."
Draco felt a slight twinge of anger rise inside of him. Of course, after the war, the reputation of Slytherins had hit a rock bottom. The already rather unpopular house was now downright despised by some students.
Draco could deal with the fact that people glared at him and made nasty remarks without bothering to lower their voices. He even accepted the occasional stinging and bruising hexes sent his way. He was an ex-death eater after all, and some people had to take out their anger and frustration about the losses they had suffered during the war. For that, he supposed, he was the perfect target.
But some students had resorted to going as far as targeting younger Slytherins. Mostly with words and harmless hexes, but it still resulted in the first and second years being confused and hurt. Blaise had stepped in on more than one occasion, trying to reprimand the bullies, but with him being Slytherin as well, it didn't always have the desired effect. Draco had wanted to step in once or twice too, but it quickly became apparent that his presence rather provoked than calmed the attackers. He mostly stuck to helping younger students after the fight. If they hadn’t run from him already, that is.
"I take it you showed those bullies your excellent rhetorical skills?"
Blaise sighed. "I guess I don't have to tell you how well that went. Though I reckon that I got through to one Hufflepuff. He looked sort of guilty afterwards."
"Well, that's a first," Draco remarked.
He had finished eating and was about to get up and go to the library to get some peace and quiet and also maybe get some studying done before heading to the next class, when a small letter addressed to Draco Malfoy appeared beside his plate.
Draco examined it with narrowed eyes before carefully taking it in his hand. Could be cursed, he thought. Wouldn't be the first time either. Might as well open it and get over with it. He slowly and even more carefully opened the envelope to peek inside. It only contained a piece of parchment, but when Draco took it out, it was blank. Annoyed, he furrowed his brow and turned the piece in his hand. Obviously, this was some kind of prank. Only, he hadn't quite figured out, what kind. Then suddenly, ink spread over the parchment and formed words.
Secret interhouse party
9 pm
Gryffindor tower
Password will appear right before the start
Ah, so they wanted him to be out after curfew and ambush him in secret. Or did they plan to let him get caught, which would result in him getting detention or worse, being expelled? He couldn't afford to have any bad remarks on his school report. The obvious solution was to ignore the message.
"Huh," Blaise muttered from beside him. Only now did Draco notice that he seemed to have gotten the same letter Draco had, but with the name Blaise Zabini scribbled on it. Confused, Draco looked around the Slytherin table and then the Great Hall. If he looked closely enough, he could make out more little envelopes in the hands of most of the 8th and 7th years of all houses. Which could only mean it wasn’t a prank after all.
He suddenly felt someone staring at him and after scanning the hall for a bit, he found a pair of green eyes watching him curiously. Potter didn't even seem to be embarrassed to be caught staring and simply lifted an eyebrow and looked away when Draco scowled at him. Scowling obviously wasn't effective, Draco concluded.
Then he realised with a start why Potter had stared. This party was obviously his stupid idea. Probably for some noble reason as well. He could already hear him preach about establishing better interhouse relationships. Saint Potter with his never-ending hero complex.
"Hey," Blaise cleared his throat. "What do you think about th-"
"I'm gonna head to the library. Got to catch up with some assignments before the next class starts."
He definitely didn't want to talk about the party.
"But you always finish your assignments right away." Ignoring the remark, Draco practically fled the Great Hall, escaping a certain pair of green eyes who had inexplicably started staring at him again.
***
The library was empty when Draco entered it. He immediately relaxed and exhaled air that he hadn't even realised he had been holding. He was grateful for the peace and quiet the library provided him. Over the last few months, it had become sort of his sanctuary. Nobody bothered to search for him in here.
He took a seat in the far back and closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the silence after all the noise in the Great Hall. Then he sat up straight and rummaged in his bag. Blaise wasn’t wrong about Draco having finished all of his assignments already. But if he was here already, he might as well study ahead. He didn't want his grades to drop. Draco fetched a quill, parchment and his arithmancy book and started reading the instructions.
Draco spun the quill in his hand. Why had Potter been staring at him in the Great Hall? It felt like he had intended to burn a hole through Draco's scull. Maybe his aim was to irritate him? Or he was planning something after all. But then again, why was he constantly treating him with this pitying smile whenever he crossed paths with Draco in the hallway? Draco chewed on his quill. Couldn’t Potter just go back to insulting him instead of greeting him with this infuriating politeness? Who was he trying to fool? They were enemies. They always had been and a few smiles wouldn’t erase their past. Draco would be fine with them mutually ignoring each other. But instead Potter was so frustratingly distant and carefully walking around Draco as if to make sure not to do something upsetting. Why? Where was that fiery, boiling anger that had always been reserved just for him?
It was only after a big drop of ink hit the parchment that he realised he had been staring at the blank scroll in front of him for several minutes. Great. Another blank parchment. Draco reached into his breast pocket, looking at the piece of parchment that was once again blank, before putting it back, angry at himself for not being able to simply throw it away. Because deep down, he was just a little bit curious.
Sighing defeatedly, he put his untouched parchment back into his bag and decided to head to his next class early. Potions. He had to smile a little bit despite himself. Even though the class was taught by Slughorn, nobody could spoil the subject for him. With new motivation he stepped out the door and that was when the first hex hit him.
A sharp pain hit his left leg.
"Death eater scum."
Draco spun around and dodged the next hex in time, sending an Incarcerus in the direction of the attacker, causing them to fall flat on the floor. He heard muttering behind him, and quickly cast Protego before facing his second opponent properly.
Funny, he thought, how his attackers unknowingly helped him develop better reflexes and duelling skills. He cast Petrificus Totalus under his breath but missed his target by an inch. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blue light moving towards him.
A third one? Really? was all he could think before a Stupor hex grazed his shoulder, the impact of the hex hurling him back and making him hit the ground. Pain shot through his right shoulder, causing him to groan. He tried raising his wand again while getting to his feet, but before he could even think of a spell, he heard someone else shout "Expelliarmus!" immediately followed by "Impedimenta!"
He looked over his shoulder and was greeted with a furious Harry Potter, hands shaking with anger.
"I didn't fight the war for this!", he shouted. The two boys and one girl, probably fifth or sixth years, flinched.
"How can you consider yourself better than those death eaters you so despise when you're here attacking and hurting someone as well!" His voice sounded almost shrill now. "Does it feel good? The three of you ganging up on him? Do you feel superior now that you've hurt someone for your own gratification?"
Draco stumbled to his feet and grabbed Potter’s hand, that still clutched his own wand and that of the girl so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
"Potter, it's alright."
"No, it's not," Potter growled, though his grip loosened, and his voice sounded calmer than before.
"You're scaring them," Draco stated drily.
Potter turned his attention towards the three probably-fifth-years-who-could-also-be-sixth-years and one boy actually trembled. He walked over to the girl, who watched him wide eyed, and handed her wand over. Then he reversed the effects of the Incarcerus spell with a flick of his wand bevor taking a deep breath and looking every one of them in the eyes.
"What you did just now was neither honorable nor justified. But we can all learn from our mistakes, “ – Draco rolled his eyes – “ So, I hope the next time you think about pulling a stunt like this you first think about the consequences of your actions and how they will affect the people around you."
The three of them nodded shakily and hurried away. Draco felt a bitter taste on his mouth. He didn't even know any of them.
"We need to get you to the hospital wing." Now Potters eyes rested on Draco again and examined his body thoroughly for injuries.
"I'm fine, Potter." Draco started walking towards the dungeons again.
"You're limping." Draco stopped and turned around.
"You don't say. I hadn't noticed." There was a strange look in Potters eyes when he looked at Draco again.
"Slughorn is not gonna let you stay in class in that state and then we have to walk all the way from the dungeons back to the hospital wing. So, let's just go now."
Draco decided not to comment on the we. Much. "Alright, I'll go to the hospital wing then." Potter looked incredulous now.
"You're going to walk like that on your own?"
Draco shrugged, trying to make it look nonchalant, but failed miserably when a sharp pain shot through his right shoulder. He winced. "Look. I've managed worse, lately. I'm not some delicate damsel in distress you have to save. So just go and tell Slughorn that I'm probably going to be late."
Potter's gaze hardened. "What did you say?" Geez. He didn't think Potter was that sensitive. Maybe now he would finally stop this whole charade of being awfully polite and go back to being angry at Draco. He sneered.
"I said, you should knock off your hero complex because it is bloody ridiculous and I'm not some damsel in-" Potter studied his face closely. Draco felt a weird sensation invading his stomach. Great. Now I'm also going to be sick, he thought.
"You're in my personal space," Draco finally stated. Potter - the git that he was - ignored his comment.
"Are you saying this isn't the first time you were attacked?" Oh. So that's what this was all about.
"Why are you so surprised? Did you think people would explode with euphoria at the idea of having to live with a death eater in their midst? Grow up, Potter. Just because the war is over doesn't mean that the world is suddenly all sunshine and rainbows," Draco said drily, trying to sound indifferent. He didn't want him to know how much this whole situation was wearing him down and slowly eating him up from the inside. Potter wasn't allowed to see him weak. Draco couldn't take another one of those pitying looks.
Potter seemed to want to say something. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Something in Draco's face must have stopped him. Instead, he reached out and pulled the sleeve of Draco's cloak back over his left shoulder. Draco hadn't even noticed it sliding down. Must have been during the fight.
"Go on then," Potter said, his hand still lingering on his shoulder. "I'll go on ahead and inform Slughorn of what happened." Then, before Draco could even come up with an answer, he withdrew his hand and headed towards the dungeons, leaving Draco in the middle of a hallway with a tingling shoulder and wondering, what kind of magic Potter had used on it.
***
Draco appreciated that Potter had let him keep his dignity, by walking off first and not watching Draco limp away. He really did. However, halfway to the hospital wing he cursed himself for not accepting help. His left leg seemed to have forgotten how to carry Draco's weight, so he had to use the wall for additional support. His right shoulder throbbed, causing him to feel nauseous. He kept on walking though, determined to miss as little of the potions class as possible.
When he stumbled into the hospital wing, he was met with a startled Madam Pomfrey.
"Oh my goodness! Again? You look terrible, Mr. Malfoy! You need to lie down quickly! No, don't move. Let me help you. How did you even walk here? Here, hold my arm. Good, just like that! Careful now..." After laying him down on one of the beds, she quickly began her examination, muttering a few spells while moving her wand up and down over his body.
He was a regular by now, so Madam Pomfrey quickly drew her own conclusion on what had happened without him uttering even as much as a word. She gasped.
"A stinging hex?", she sounded outraged. "What were those kids thinking attacking another student like that? Really, someone ought to give them a taste of their own medicine. Maybe that'll knock some sense into them."
She hurried into the back room, only to emerge a few seconds later again with a small cup containing a yellowish liquid.
"Drink this," she said, while helping him up into a sitting position. Draco took the cup into his hand, slowly gulping down the potion. It tasted like troll snot; he was sure of it. But he immediately felt warmth spread through his body and the pain in his leg numbing. "Now rest for a while."
Draco managed to get into a sitting position to be on eye level with Pomfrey.
"Can't I go to class now?" She narrowed her eyes. "No." He shot her a pleading look.
"I can't miss class. If I want to qualify for N.E.W.T.s I have to know all the material." She sighed, clearly annoyed.
"Since the Stupor only grazed your shoulder, it wasn't able to render you unconscious or affect you otherwise. You only sprained your shoulder from the fall. I can heal that rather quickly. Your leg is another story though. There isn't serious damage, but I still need you to rest for at least half an hour to let the potion I gave you take effect properly and for your body to recover from the overexertion. After that you may go to class."
Draco decided not to argue on the subject anymore, since Pomfrey didn't make any exceptions when it came to the way of treating her patients. Instead, he lay back down and closed his eyes. If he was already here, he concluded, he might as well take a quick nap. And whether he thought about Harry Potter's green eyes and his magical tingling touch, was nobody's business but his own.
***
"Draco! You're ok! Quick, help me with this potion. We clearly didn't get the right instructions." Draco lifted an eyebrow.
"Glad to see you care about my well-being." He dropped into the chair next to Blaise, warily looking at the bluish seething substance in Blaise's cauldron. "What is that supposed to be anyway?"
Blaise glanced at his failed potion, wearing a defeated expression. Then his gaze wandered towards Draco again.
"You look awful, you know that?" A look of concern clouded his face. Draco gasped, scandalized.
"Better awful looking than being rubbish at potions. And I am always handsome, mind you." Even though Blaise still didn't look fully convinced, the corner of his mouth twitched.
"I'm really ok though," Draco added and Blaise finally relaxed.
"That's good to hear." He paused, thoughtful. "If there's someone to be concerned about, then it's Potter over there." Draco's gaze snapped to where Blaise was pointing at, finding the familiar messy mop of hair diagonally in front of him.
"What about him?" he asked, maybe a bit too eagerly, judging by the look of bewilderment Blaise gave him. Thankfully, he didn’t comment on it.
"He's been acting strange throughout the whole lesson. First, he stormed into the classroom looking all angry and stuff. Then he managed to cut himself tree times while preparing ingredients until Weasley banned him from the preparation and actually cut the ingredients for him. Even though Potter is usually rubbish at potions, he isn't that clumsy." Blaise snickered.
"After that he just stared at the door for full ten minutes." Draco sighed. Potter was clearly still angry at those attackers from before. His hero complex really was highly irritating.
"Anyway, d'you reckon there's some way to save this potion?" Blaise watched him expectantly.
"Yeah, let me handle it. Just don't touch anything," Draco answered distractedly. He was busy staring at Potter's hair. Honestly, how could one live with such messy hair? And his school uniform was wrinkled again, making his already scrawny physique look even more unflattering. His incompetence was overwhelming, to say the least. How did all the students fail to recognize it? Annoying, Draco thought. Doesn't he own a mirror? And his stupid glasses, making his eyes twinkle weirdly just like -
"Draco!" His gaze snapped back to his left. Blaise was pointing at his cauldron, wearing a look of desperation on his face.
"Didn't you say you'd help me? I can't turn that one in. At this rate, Slughorn will give me a T" he whined. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Slug club members never get a T or even Ds and Ps and you know it. You all get As and above. I'm the one who constantly has to suffer from bad grades."
Nevertheless, he grabbed the paper on Blaise's desk and started reading the instructions for Baruffio's Brain Elixir. His face screwed up in irritation. He's read about this particular elixir in Potions Weekly before and knew about its strong effect in increasing one's brain power. But the paper had also revealed its great danger of melting one's brain when brewing it the wrong way and that almost nobody had managed to pull off the elixir correctly so far. This was followed up by a list of dreadful accidents. Thus, the potion had been labelled illegal by the Ministry of Magic for the risks were greater than the gains. Even if they were preparing for their N.E.W.T.s, brewing a highly complex not to mention dangerous potion should not be part of their lesson plan. Knowing the greedy snake Slughorn, he probably looked for ways to sell that thing. Honestly.
"Slughorn is almost at our table!", Blaise hissed. Draco shook his head and skimmed the ingredients list as well as the instructions.
"It says here that the potion is supposed to look dark green. Since you already added the frog brains, but your color is still light blue, you must have forgotten to stir the potion five times clockwise before adding the runespoor eggs. I think we can fix that by stirring it now and then adding some more eggs. It's not gonna save the potion but it will be as close as we can get to the right version," he said while already starting to follow his own instructions.
"You're a genius!", Blaise exclaimed when the color in the caldron started to look slightly more like green.
"Of course I am," Draco bragged, not mentioning the dozens of articles he had read about Baruffio's Brain Elixir after having seen the one in Potions Weekly, in search of a way to better his brain capacity for his studying. After having read about the countless accidents though, he had quickly discarded the idea of brewing it.
"Ah, Mr. Zabini." Professor Slughorn's enormous belly leaned over Blaise's cauldron. "I see you've improved. Keep up the good work." He scribbled something in his notebook that looked suspiciously like an E and then directed his gaze at Draco.
"Mr. Malfoy," he greeted coldly, then proceeded to move towards the next student.
Draco couldn't bring himself to be bothered by Slughorn's favoritism. As long as the examiners in his final test would acknowledge his skill, it would be enough. Slughorn obviously liked to collect only stupid students anyway. Like Potter, for example. Who was biting his lower lip in concentration right now, wearing a worried expression. No, he was downright abusing his lip. Potter's lip really ought to be pitied. If Draco had a say in it, he would treat Potter's lips way better than Potter did.
"Wow," Blaise said, looking in Potter's direction as well. "Seems like his potion is about to leave the cauldron."
Draco leaned forward, so he could peer past Potter to see the potion. It was true. The substance had turned a dark shade of blue, looking almost black and it actually started to swirl on its own, like a little storm. Draco quickly flicked one of his powdered Dragon claws from his table, which landed with a satisfying plop in Potter's cauldron. Then he willed the content to be stirred counter clockwise seven times. The potion had stopped swirling. With a relieved sigh, he plumped back into his chair.
Blaise cleared his throat. "What?", Draco snapped. "Potter's stupid potion could have spilled all the way to our table. I was saving our space from becoming a mess."
Blaise shook his head and snorted. "Sure, whatever."
When Draco wanted to take another look at Potter's potion, just to be sure, he was instead met with Potter's eyes. Again. Potter nodded at him and smiled. Draco narrowed his eyes and then looked away. Even so, he could feel Potter's gaze on him throughout the rest of the class.
***
When Draco followed Blaise out of the classroom, he was only mildly surprised when Blaise suddenly stopped, only to reveal one Harry Potter leaning against the wall, apparently wanting to talk to him. Like this day couldn't become any weirder.
"I think I'm gonna go on ahead," Blaise mumbled and disappeared down the corridor. Traitor.
"Thank you," Potter said. Draco raised an eyebrow.
"For helping me out in potions?”, Potter supplied. “That really was a close one back there."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't know what you're talking about. But your concoction did almost splatter everywhere, so you better start actually reading the instructions next time."
Potter looked irritated. Draco felt like he had won a small victory.
"I still wanted to say thank you," Potter said. He really wasn't about to let that go, was he? Draco felt a small twinge of annoyance.
"Well, you delivered your message and it has been received. So I reckon we all move our way. I for my part still have... stuff to do at the dormitories, " he finished weakly.
"Actually, I also waited here to ask you a question," Potter said and after a quick glance at Draco he added, "If you don't mind," which was simply rude, because obviously Draco minded.
Potter looked at him, but didn't talk. Now this was weird. Did he come here to provoke Draco after all? Because those stares really started to rile him up. Potter still stared, expectantly. And then Draco realised, that Potter was actually waiting for some kind of permission to talk. This was hysterical. Potter never had had any problem to speak his mind before. So Draco snorted. Which was inappropriate, he realised, but he just couldn't help himself.
"What?", Potter asked, sounding indignant. That was more like it.
Draco tried to sound disinterested. "Spill it out then."
Potter opened his mouth and closed it again. Took a deep breath. "The party," he pressed out. "The secret one. Are you gonna go?"
He seemed to cringe at his own words. Draco sneered. Geez. Potter didn't have to force himself to invite him. He needed to show Potter that there was no need to be constantly nice towards him. Draco just wanted to finish his last year in peace and quiet.
"Some of us actually came back to Hogwarts to study, Potter. Not everyone has a position at the ministry waiting for them. So, if you don't mind, I think I'm gonna pass."
Potter cocked his head. "I do mind, actually. From what I can tell, you've been studying every weekend so far-“
“Are you stalking me?” Draco tried and failed to look scandalised. Potter ignored him.
“You can give yourself a break now and then. Actually talk to a few more people. Decent people, I mean. Not the ones that...", he paused for a second. "Look, I'm not going to force you to go-"
"Good, since I'm not going," Draco interrupted. "But I think a break would do you good," Potter continued. "And together we can come up with ways to make a good example and establish interhouse relationships."
"As noble and tempting as that idea sounds, I'm not going to go into some Lion’s cave, not to mention risk being caught out of bed after curfew, just to be your example of some kind of post-war reconciliations."
Finally, Potter wore a defeated expression. Satisfied, Draco adjusted the bag on his right shoulder and started walking in the direction of his dormitories.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were scared." Draco stopped and turned around sharply.
"What did you say?"
Potter smirked. "Oh nothing. It's alright. I can fully understand if you're too scared to go. It was stupid of me to ask. I should have known you wouldn't dare set a foot in the Gryffindor tower."
Potter was provoking him on purpose. Draco wasn't as stupid as to not realise that. But still, some small part of him reacted to it, no matter how hard he tried to stuff it down. He lifted his chin.
"Alright. I'll go. For the sake of interhouse relationships," he spat out, trying to sound as sarcastic as possible. Then he turned on his heels and hurried to the dungeons, before he could regret his decision.
***
"Do you want to go to the Great Hall with me for dinner or would you rather like to continue lying on your bed and stare a hole into the ceiling?"
Blaise's face appeared in Draco's line of view, preventing him from staring said hole into the ceiling.
"I don't feel particularly hungry right now. I think I'm just gonna try and take a quick nap."
Blaise narrowed his gaze at Draco, but then he just shrugged. "Suit yourself then."
"Wake me up before we go to the party."
Blaise inhaled sharply. "Wait. You'll come along?"
"Yeah?" Draco tried to sound indifferent.
"Sorry,” Blaise said, “it just caught me by surprise. You seemed like you didn't want to go, and you never do anything for fun on the weekends. I guess I didn't think you would change your mind so quickly."
Blaise was right. It was scary how Potter had managed to change his mind with only a few sentences.
"Anyway, I'm glad you decided to come along. See you later, I guess."
Blaise smiled and left Draco and the ceiling alone to discuss the matter of Potter's wicked way of tricking people.
***
"Now. How come you decided to go to a secret out-of-house party when you never even have time for your actual friends on the weekend?"
It was almost nine o'clock and they were walking towards the Gryffindor tower. Blaise boxed him with his elbow playfully, but Draco had heard the hurt in his voice. Draco didn't feel like talking about this whole Potter-is-weird topic, since he had the slightest suspicion that Blaise had heard enough of those rants, but he did owe him some kind of explanation.
"It's not that I really want to go. I was kind of tricked into going."
Blaise raised his eyebrows. Draco sighed.
"Potter got to me with his preach about setting an example for younger students and his stupid idea of interhouse friendship or whatever," he grumbled. "And I kind of owe him for a lot of things, so it's hard to say no."
That wasn't the entire reason why he ended up accepting the invite, but it wasn't a lie either.
"But since I am sacrificing my Friday evening anyway, I might as well enjoy it while having fun with my actual friend," he added, grinning.
"That's nice to hear," Blaise grinned back. "Though I won't stand in your way if you decide you'd rather spend time with Potter," he said, trying hard to hold back his laughter.
"I do not!", Draco exclaimed.
"Anyway. Why did you want to come to the party?" Draco asked, desperate to change the subject.
"Oh, you know. It was this 'stupid idea of interhouse friendship or whatever' that got me hooked," Blaise said, smirking. "But in all honesty, I really think it is a good idea. The meaningless fighting has to stop."
Draco patted his shoulder. "I know this is important to you. And it is to Granger and Weasley and Potter and all those other goodie two shoes as well, so you'll be mingling with the right crowd." He frowned. "I guess you'll be the one who won't have time for me tonight."
"Yeah. I think it is a good thing to be working together with the Gryffindors. It feels like a new starting point. And I've never been to their tower, so I am quite curious."
"Wait, how can we be sure we are walking in the right direction if neither of us has been to the Gryffindor tower before?" Blaise stopped.
"Uh... that is a good question." Draco groaned.
"For some reason I thought we would simply find it. At least we know it's somewhere in the west quarter of the castle." Blaise laughed. "And it's probably on the highest floor."
"Stupid Gryffindors not able to think things through," Draco grumbled. "Only writing down the password on the parchment is not gonna help."
He gasped. "The parchment! Maybe there's something on there?"
He fumbled through his pockets, not sure where he put it. Finally, he found it in his breast pocket, crumbled, but at least not torn. Hastily, he unfolded it and turned it in his hand.
"Damn it! It's blank. Of course it's blank,” Draco huffed in frustration. Then again, this was the perfect excuse not to go.
“This is stupid. Let's go back," he hissed, trying to get his annoyance across.
Blaise raised an eyebrow at his sudden outburst and held out his hand. "Give me the parchment." He took out his wand and pointed it at the parchment. Then he cleared his throat. "Show us the way to the Gryffindor tower."
A black arrow appeared on the parchment, pointing ahead. Blaise looked at Draco triumphantly and started walking in the direction the arrow was pointing. "Let's go. Or we're gonna miss the whole party."
Draco hesitated. He suddenly didn’t feel too confident about going to a party thrown and populated by mostly Gryffindors. But then again, he was curious and he could always go back if the party sucked.
“Come on.” He gaze snapped back to Blaise, who smiled at him cautiously. “Please?”
Right. He wasn’t alone. Blaise would be there by his side and he didn’t want to ruin his best friend’s night by being a stupid drama queen.
“Ok,” Draco caved in. “I just hope there’ll not be that many more stairs. They're killing me."
Blaise looked over his shoulder, giving him an amused look. "You're such a baby sometimes, you know that?"
Draco flipped him the finger. "If I were you, I'd be careful what I'd say to my only decent friend. Or else you're gonna end up- ahhh!"
Draco tripped over, hitting the stairs with his elbows and knees.
"What happened?" Blaise hurried over to his side.
"The fucking step just disappeared. Look!" Draco's foot was indeed trapped in a gap between two steps. Blaise helped him pull it out.
"That was weird." He scratched his head.
"Weird?!", Draco huffed. "Weird doesn't even begin to cover what I'm thinking right now!"
Blaise shrugged and continued walking. "It's Hogwarts, mate. Let's just mind our steps from now on and be caref-"
Blaise tripped. "Ha! Serves you right," Draco snickered. Blaise scowled.
"I swear that step was not there a second ago!" Draco extended his hand. "I know. Now let's just climb these bloody stairs and get this over with."
***
"Of course the password is powdered Dragon claw," Draco mumbled, trying hard to hide his amusement.
"Can't deny the irony. Maybe this portrait wanted to honor you in the name of all Gryffindors for saving The Boy Who Lived in potions," Blaise said dramatically and then proceeded to climb through the portrait hole. Draco followed closely behind.
The Gryffindor common room was already fully packed with students from every house. Some of them looked at the newcomers when they entered, but most of them were already absorbed into conversation. Draco did notice an alarming lack of Slytherin students immediately though.
"Great," he hissed, looking at Blaise for support. Blaise however stared around the room with sparkling, wide eyes.
"Why isn't our common room this comfy?", he whispered. "Why don't we get to have sunlight?"
Draco rolled his eyes, though he was quite envious as well. "You survived seven years in the dungeons. You'll survive another one."
"Can I get everyone's attention?" someone shouted. Draco had to look around a bit before identifying Granger as the one who had spoken. When most of the students had quiet down, she continued.
"I'd like to say a few things, now that almost everyone is here." Draco and Blaise exchanged glances. Of course, Granger is going to hold a fucking speech. At a party.
"As some of you might have guessed, this is not only a simple party - though I do hope you'll enjoy yourself and have fun; we have some Butterbeer in store,” she winked at that, “ but this is also a means to forget old grudges and make a fresh start. Since we have noticed great tension between students, especially if they're from different houses-"
"More like between Slytherin and everyone else," Draco mumbled.
"-we'd like to resolve that as best as we can by not only being a good example and showing solidarity and tolerance towards each other, but also by stopping fights and teaching younger students to learn from the past. Everyone has suffered some kind of loss during the war and people deserve to be given a second chance. So I hope I can count on you to help out. We can gain so much more if we're able to let go of our hatred."
Left and right students began clapping and making approving sounds, the Weasel - devoted boyfriend that he was - being the loudest.
Potter patted Granger on the back and then started a conversation with her and Weasley. Then he laughed at something Weasley said, and Draco realised Potter had dimples. How had he not noticed that before?
Many students started crowding Potter and his friends now. Potter smiled again, but this time something was different. And then, Draco understood. It doesn't reach his eyes. He doesn't smile for himself, he realised. Huh. That was quite strange. Well, it wasn’t his problem, was it?
"I got us something to drink," Blaise informed him, suddenly appearing beside him. When had he even gone away? Damn it. How long had he been staring at Potter?
It was right at this moment that Potter turned around and caught him staring. Just his luck. Then the strangest thing happened. Potter raised an eyebrow and actually winked at him. His eyes twinkling and a grin spreading across his face. What the hell was wrong with Potter?
Quickly, Draco broke eye contact and whipped around to grab a bottle of Butterbeer from the hands of a startled Blaise. He downed it in one go. Potter winking was giving him weird thoughts. A prickling sensation shot through him. Now, that was better already.
"What the hell, man?" Apparently, Blaise had found his voice again. Instead of answering, he made a grab for the second bottle. Blaise held on to it defensively.
"Hey, that's my drink. If you want more, go get it yourself," he said, pointing in a direction opposite of Potter. Which was good. Since he didn't need to see him anymore, this would consequently stop his thoughts about Potter. So Draco turned on his heels, away from Potter and his dimples and his wink, that actually looked quite cu-
"Wait, you’re really going?", Blaise asked, running after him. "If you're that thirsty, at least drink something without alcohol in it."
Draco already had a new bottle in his hand and nipped at it. Who had bought this amount of alcohol anyway? Definitely not Granger. Probably Potter. Had he carried all these bottles here? After all, Potter was one to not use magic in the strangest situations. But would he be strong enough to carry all those beer crates? No. He was good at Accio spells, so maybe that? A hand appeared in his line of view, interrupting his train of thoughts.
"Earth to Draco?" Shit. He really needed to stop thinking about Potter. Frustrated, he took three big gulps of Butterbeer, putting down the empty bottle on the table with more force then necessary. He thought he heard someone behind him curse, but he didn't really care. He reached for the next bottle.
Blaise cleared his throat. "Since you’re not really that talkative tonight, is it alright if I go over there to the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in the corner? They invited me for a round of exploding snap since they really like my ideals and stuff." He sounded genuinely happy.
"Yeah, yeah, go already. I don't intend to keep you hostage at my side," Draco declared.
Blaise hesitated. "Since you seem to have a better relationship with Butterbeer than with me at the moment, can I trust you not to overdo it? I don't want to find you lying on the floor later."
Draco gave him a rough nudge with his elbow and grinned at him. "I can take care of myself. Have fun. But don't suck up to them too much."
Blaise looked slightly indignant, but his worry seemed to have subsided. "Talk to you later, I guess?" He waved at Draco awkwardly, before making his way to the corner of the room, where a few boys and girls already called for him.
Despite himself Draco had to smile. He was happy for him. Blaise had worked hard to redeem himself and it seemed that people had started to recognise his efforts. Even though some students were rude to Blaise, he always made sure to be kind anyway. Although he would never admit it openly, Draco sometimes envied Blaise's strength. Draco had tried to stay calm when others talked smack about him or his fellow Slytherins but even though he had become somewhat quieter after the war, he had never quite managed to stop his angry outbursts from happening. He sometimes couldn't understand how Blaise endured his behavior. No one else wanted to come near Draco - for several reasons - only Blaise actively approached him and searched for his company. Well, him and Potter.
But Potter didn't count since he was crazy anyway. And incompetent. And a lip-abuser. And... he should really stop thinking about Potter. He drank another bottle in one go. Someone mentioned something about Firewhisky, and Draco suddenly found a cup in his hand. He shrugged and drank. It seared Draco's throat. It seemed to burn him from within, filling him with euphoria and giving him a new boost of energy.
He reached for another cup and downed it enthusiastically. Why should he stop thinking about Potter? Draco tried hard to remember. Ah, because it was weird. Somehow his cup was refilled again. He took another sip. But thinking about Potter was also fun. And he could think about whatever the hell he wanted, and no one was gonna stop him from that.
Watching Potter was fun too. He could do that too if he wanted to. Potter was watching him right now as well, so Draco had an equal right to do the same. Provocatively, he stared into Potter's green eyes and he stared right back. Draco raised one eyebrow and winked, like Potter had done earlier and Potter winked right back. This was fun. Now Potter stood up from where he was sitting with his friends and started walking somewhere, not breaking eye contact with Draco. It was only when Potter was standing right in front of him that Draco realised Potter had been walking towards him. His brain must be working slower than usual, Draco concluded and decided to give himself a good smack on the back of his head.
A puzzled expression flickered over Potter's face, but then he caught himself again and smiled at Draco.
"I'm glad you could make it tonight. You know, it's unfamiliar, but strangely good to see representation from every house gathered here." Draco raised his eyebrows and looked demonstratively around.
"Yeah, representation." Potter followed his gaze. "I admit there aren't that many Slytherins around, but I figure that's partly due to the fact that many older students of your house decided not to come back to Hogwarts."
"That's true," Draco giggled, though he didn't know why. Potter apparently didn't know either.
"But there's a whole pack of little lions here, so the numbers aren't the least bit even," Draco pointed out helpfully.
Potter furrowed his brow. "Little lions? Oh, you mean the younger Gryffindors! They can't come in here. Hermione has put up wards around the common room, so that the younger students don't hear us and are able to fall asleep tonight. And whenever someone comes close to the common room, they feel the overwhelming need to go to bed again. Brilliant, isn't it?" Potter beamed, proud of his friend.
"That's pretty clever and thought through," Draco agreed.
Potter's eyes widened. "You're complementing Hermione?"
Draco raised his chin. "I'm not that stingy, that I don't acknowledge some good spell work and a sneaky mind."
He raised his finger in the air. "Let it not be said that Draco Malfoy is not generous with his compliments when he finds a deserving subject to point them at."
Potter seemed startled for a moment, then he snorted out a laugh. "You're positively smashed, aren't you?"
Draco looked at Potter curiously. "I am?"
He felt a warm feeling spreading inside his stomach. He had made Potter laugh. It felt like a victory. Through his hazy mind he tried to keep up with the conversation. Was he drunk? Probably a little bit. Potter bit his lip, apparently trying hard to contain his laughter. "You're quite funny, you know that?"
"You don't say," Draco boasted.
"But you know what?", he whispered and looked at Potter conspiratorially, "I think the stairs to the tower are alive! They tried to capture me and Bl- Bl- Blaise. But shhhhh, don't tell anybody!"
Now Potter's eyes went impossibly round and then he burst out laughing, holding his stomach, stumbling and having to hold on to Draco to not fall over. Draco being not that steady on his feet as well, swayed, which caused them both to hold on to each other for balance, trying hard not to make the other one fall.
It must have looked weird viewed from the outside, the two of them performing some kind of awkward stumbling dance, all the while laughing hysterically. Then they both hit the solid surface of the wall with their backs.
A last row of breathless laughter bubbled out of their chests, before they relaxed against the cold stone. Draco felt a wave of dizziness wash over him and at the back of his mind a voice told him that he should have probably eaten something for dinner before having the glorious idea of drinking half of the alcohol supply alone.
He decided to get himself a bottle of water and pushed himself off the wall. With that much momentum and without the support of said wall though, Draco immediately found himself swaying. Then the ground came closer and somehow, he found himself lying on the floor. He crawled towards the wall again and positioned himself into a sitting position. The floor was as nice a place to sit as any, he concluded.
A hand appeared in front of his face. Potter looked down at him expectantly, trying to help him up. Draco felt a strange sense of déjà-vu. His stomach dropped. He ignored Potter's hand. I held out my hand to you once. But I guess I was a real prat back then. He looked up again, studying Potter's face.
"Why do you ins-ins-insist on being kind to me? Why don't you just act like ev- everyone else and treat me like the death eater scum I am? I deserve that."
Potter sat beside him then, to be on the same level with his eyes. Draco saw sincerity displayed in them.
"First of all, you're an ex-death eater. You regret what you've done, and you saved my life when you refused to reveal my identity. Not many would have done the same in your position. Secondly, don't you think everyone deserves a second chance? If the war taught me one thing, then that we are still alive and should value that. We are able to make a difference. Some people didn't get that lucky. We did. Don't you think we should use this chance to make a change?"
Draco furrowed his brow in concentration and thought about what Potter had said.
Suddenly he remembered Potter’s weird smile from earlier, which had seemed almost sad. Some people didn’t get that lucky. Potter was right. And for the first time Draco questioned whether Potter put on his overly happy attitude for the benefit of making others feel at ease rather than because he himself was actually always in a good mood.
Maybe Potter is actually broken as well. He had lost people in the war as well, after all. He had to burden all this responsibility alone, fight Voldemort alone. Die alone. Kill a man. And here he was, smiling, giving people courage, moving on. Still always the hero. How had Draco not thought of that before? Maybe he could do that to. Move on. Stop living in self-pity.
“I’ll stop livvving in self-pt… in self-pity,” Draco slurred proudly. “Because we both lost me too.”
“Err, that’s good?” Potter lifted a brow.
“Hey, I’m serious!” Draco raised his voice and promptly started coughing.
“Wait, I’ll get you some water.” Potter got to his feet and disappeared into the crowd.
Draco let out a frustrated sigh. He really should have slowed down on the Firewhisky. Now that he had started talking to Potter and he turned out to be kind of fun, Draco really wanted to get his point across.
“Hey.” A cup of water appeared in his line of vision. Draco quickly whipped his face around. “Earlier, I meant-“
“I think I get what you mean,” Potter said and gifted him with one of the most dazzlingly smiles Draco had ever seen. “I’ve seen how you try to stay out of fights and help younger students. I think you’ve already moved on more than you think you have.” He gestured for Draco to drink, which he finally did.
"Still, after everything I've done to you, you don't have to be so nice. Why?"
Now, Potter looked curious. "I could ask you the same thing. After everything we’ve went through, why do you keep on trying to push me away?"
Draco was confused. "Well, because we're r-riv-riv-rivals."
"Oh?" Potter cocked his head. "And running from me is aiding our rivalry how exactly?"
Draco spluttered. "I'm not rrrrunning from you!"
Draco paused to think for a second on how to best make Potter understand that he simply didn't want his politeness and certainly didn't need his help or kindness.
"I'm obviously trying to help you get warm again," he concluded, proud of his logical explanation.
"Making me... warm?"
Now Potter looked truly confused, which just wouldn't do. Even if Potter was a bit slower on the uptake, no, especially because he was, Draco had the duty to help him understand.
He cleared his throat. "Honestly Potter, it's not that complicated. Since you are so cold when you're acting all polite and kind, I've taken it upon mysss- myself to make you warm again inside. Walking away from you - not running, mind you - is all part of the... the plan."
Potter raised an eyebrow. "The plan?"
Draco sighed. "Planning, planning, planning. See how much I s- s- ssssacrifice for you?"
Surely, Potter would realise now how grateful he should be to Draco. He was planning a lot for him after all. What exactly that included had slipped his mind, but it was sure to be a lot of work.
"And how exactly does you running away from me make me get warm?" Potter actually had the audacity to snort.
"Obviously, you'll get angry ev- evtuly evtly eventually and when you're angry you're getting hot." Draco wrinkled his nose. "Though you really take your time getting angry."
Potter blinked. "You think I'm hot?"
Draco groaned in frustration. "That'ssss bes- besssides the point. The point is... the point is," he paused. "The point is that you need my help and I'm graciously offering it. Which makes me better than you since you need me. That's how rivalry works." He paused again. "I think."
Potter's eyes twinkled mischievously, and a grin started spreading across his face. "Oh?", he repeated his earlier statement. He seemed to know something Draco didn't.
"Do I have to find something I'm better at than you to keep up with you then?" Draco had the slightest suspicion that he was being mocked. Git. He sniffed.
"You're hardly gonna find anyth- th- thing you're better at than me, but since I'm a generous person, I let you stay my rival."
Strangely, Potter didn't seem the slightest bit offended by this statement. On the contrary, he seemed even more amused.
"Is that a challenge?" Potter asked.
Draco beamed. "I like challenges," he told Potter. "But for a real challenge we need an audience!"
Impressed by his own idea and with new energy, he quickly got to his feet and after swaying for a bit, he found his balance. He pointed at Potter, who was still sitting on the floor, as if he wasn't sure what to expect next.
Draco took a deep breath and then declared loudly: "I'm challenging you, Potter. Right now."
Potter stood up as well then, apparently unfazed. "So you want to duel then? In the common room?"
Draco thought his voice sounded slightly concerned after all. The room had gotten strangely quiet, Draco registered, most of its occupants expectantly watching him and Potter. Well, especially Potter. Draco sneered at a few girls who seemed to have their eyes glued to the messy haired boy.
"Strangely, you're more popular than me. Even though you obvssly- obviously don’t own a mirror, or a comb or know how to tie a bloody tie. And you’re a lip abuser! I’ve seen it! Maybe all the girls think you can kiss better too. Ridiculous." Draco sneered at the girls again, for good measure. Who did they think they were anyway, thinking they could kiss Potter?
"Obviously ridiculous, since you're better at that too, aren't you?"
Draco's gaze snapped back to Potter. "Naturally."
Potter chuckled. "Prove it."
Draco furrowed his brow in confusion. "What?"
Potter now seemed like he had to try really hard to hold back his laughter. "How can you know you kiss better than me without an actual comparison?"
Draco couldn't argue with that. Potter had a point. Determined to prove himself, he surged forward and crushed their lips together. He was met with wide green eyes and soft lips.
It was then that Draco realised, that up until this point, Potter had only been joking. It also became apparent to him with a sobering shock that he was kissing Harry Potter right now. Probably, no definitely against his will. What had he been thinking? Abruptly, he pulled back, averting his gaze.
"Was that all you got?"
Draco flinched. He didn't want to look Potter in the eyes. He didn't want to see the kind of expression he was wearing.
"For I must admit I had expected quite a bit more after your confident declaration."
Draco felt a hand on his chin, forcing him to meet Potter's gaze. Draco's eyes widened in disbelief. Potter was smiling. His eyes were twinkling, easily capturing Draco and making it impossible for him to look away. Not that Potter's hand on his chin would have allowed that.
"Since you clearly lack experience in the kiss department, I need to show you how it's done correctly."
Potter's eyes were getting bigger. No, they were moving closer. And then Potter's lips were on his again.
At first it was just a gentle peck, almost like a caress, then Potter increased the pressure, moving his lips on Draco's. Draco was frozen in shock, his eyes wide, his lips unmoving. Potter's tongue licked over Draco's lips before he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on it. Draco gasped, his brain remembering how to function again. And as Potter hesitantly slipped his tongue into Draco's mouth, Draco kissed him back with ferocious enthusiasm.
Potter moved his tongue more confidently then, exploring Draco's mouth thoroughly, making sure to taste every spot, lick every tooth and in return making Draco's toes curl and his mouth tingle. Determined not to be outdone, since he was obviously the better kisser and had every intention to prove just that, Draco moved his tongue alongside Potter's, creating a little fight for dominance. When his tongue finally slipped past Potter's lips, he could more feel than hear Potter moan, the sound vibrating through their bodies. That's when Draco lost himself completely.
He could only feel Potter's mouth, only see Potter's eyes, which were so impossibly green. And it wasn't enough anymore. He needed to feel Potter more, to be closer to him. His hands buried themselves in Potter's messy hair, bringing their faces even closer together, making them both gasp, changing their mouth position, before meeting again in a deep kiss.
Potter's tongue actually moved quite skilfully, Draco had to admit. He even considered to share the title of best kisser with Potter.
He felt Potter's arms around his waist and the now familiar wall against his back. He decided he very much liked this wall. When had he been pressed against it anyway? But all thoughts about the wall vanished from his mind when one of Potter's legs slipped between his thighs, moving against his crotch. Now it was Draco's turn to moan against Potter's mouth, biting his bottom lip.
The sound of many voices murmuring in agitation and confusion made Draco force his gaze away from Potter and look around at the gaping expressions of their spectators.
"For the sake of interhouse relationships," he explained, before looking at Potter again.
Potter snorted. He had a fond expression in his eyes. Having Potter stare at him wasn't that annoying after all.
"As much as I'd like to continue this, I fear that we have too big of an audience." Potter whispered and smiled at him mischievously and suddenly Draco's whole body was tingling.
Potter's lips were swollen. I did this, Draco realised. He stared at Potter's lips some more, mesmerized.
"Let's go over there instead," Potter said, causing Draco's attention to snap back to his eyes. He was gesturing towards a sofa in front of the fireplace.
"You look like you could use some time to sit down." Draco wanted to protest at first, but he did feel kind of exhausted all of a sudden, so he just nodded in agreement and let Potter drag him towards the sofa.
He heard whispers around them, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was too happy for that, though his drunk brain didn't quite figure out why.
The sofa was soft and the fire warm, the heat suddenly making Draco extremely tired. He leaned his head against Potter's shoulder and closed his eyes. He thought he heard Potter chuckle softly beside him, before he drifted off into a state unconsciousness.
***
Draco woke up to the first light of dawn and a very uncomfortable pillow. It wasn't just the pillow, his sleep-fogged mind noted. His whole mattress was way too firm. And it was moving.
He squinted his eyes, still heavy with sleep and forced them open. He was sleeping on a red sofa. But not only that. He was sprawled on top of a snoozing Harry Potter.
It must be one of those dreams, Draco concluded, letting out a very annoyed huff.
A strand of Potter's hair fluttered. Potter furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn't wearing glasses. Draco felt the sudden urge to touch Potter's eyelashes, so he did. Potter stirred and opened his eyes.
It was at this moment that Draco remembered where he was, and that Potter was very much real.
He inhaled sharply and quickly tried to climb off Potter. But in the sudden movement he had tangled his legs with Potter's, causing him to lose his balance and falling off the sofa with a loud thud.
Potter seemed to be fully awake now as well and after wearing a confused expression he started laughing.
"Very funny," Draco commented dryly, rubbing his head, but he couldn't stop his lips from twitching upwards just a little bit.
"I did promise Blaise to not end up lying on the floor," he mumbled, snickering. Then he yawned, his brain trying to keep up with all the events of last night.
"Why did we sleep on the couch anyway? Where is everyone else?"
Potter leaned over the edge of the sofa, peering down at Draco. "You fell asleep after... well. Anyway, we were sitting on the sofa and you were already pretty smashed, so you were asleep in a matter of seconds."
Potter yawned. Draco stared at his lips. And suddenly images from last night of those lips flittered through his brain in high speed.
"Right, we were making out."
Potter flinched. "Yeah."
An awkward silence followed. Draco cursed inwardly. He had said that without thinking. Now he had gone and reminded Potter of something he probably tried to forget.
Potter cleared his throat. "You haven't missed much of the party after you fell asleep. Except for Neville climbing on the tables and trying to strip. It took three people to drag him off the table again," he paused for a moment, chuckling awkwardly.
"And of course, we drew quite some attention towards us after our... stunt, but most of the others were drunk as well, so they minded their own business again. Though based on some horrified expressions I recon we did manage to shock a few people. Hermione and Ron shooed them away. It was getting late anyway, so most of them eventually decided to head to their common rooms or beds."
Draco nodded. "Thanks for filling me in. Always good to know that we were able to traumatize some innocent students with our stunt," he said, grinning mischievously and emphasizing on the word stunt. He had decided it was best to brush what had happened off as something funny. Potter seemed relieved. Draco didn't like it. He needed to get away from here and clear his head.
"Well, this was fun and all," he got up in a sitting position and stretched his arms, "but I think I'll go outside and get some fresh air now."
Potter looked up at that. "If you're up for it we could go on a broom flight together?" he asked.
He sounded nervous. Then he opened his mouth, as if to say something else but closed it again. Draco waited. Potter took a deep breath, as if to brace himself for an attack.
"Or we could try comparing our kissing skills some more instead, if you want to," Potter looked at him, fidgeting with his hands and then he actually blushed.
"I heard the experience is even better when you're sober," he added, glancing at Draco sideways.
Oh, so Potter thought Draco had only kissed him because he was drunk. Which was entirely true, but it didn't mean he hadn't enjoyed it. Was Potter saying that he had liked the kiss as well?
Draco looked at Potter and slowly, shakily lifted his hand. He took a deep breath. Then he carefully touched Potter's hand and smiled, his heart racing. "I'd like that very much."
Potter's eyes began sparkling again. "Let's settle once and for all who's faster on the broom then, Potter."
Potter quickly leaned forward, giving Draco a kiss on the forehead. "Harry," he said.
Draco gaped at Potter, no Harry, looking flabbergasted. Then he caught himself again and a grin spread across his face.
"Well then, Harry," Draco said, testing out the unfamiliar word on his tongue, "be prepared to be beaten, since I'll arrive at the broom closet way before you."
Even while he was saying it, he had already stood up and started moving backwards towards the portrait hole. Now he whirled around and started running. Behind him, he could hear Harry huffing and shouting, while trying to catch up to him.
"Hey, that's cheating!"
Draco giggled and looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, Harry Potter was running closely behind him, cheeks rosy from the effort of keeping up, eyes beaming lively.
"That's not cheating, but using the situation to your advantage," Draco stated between huffs and giggles.
He felt a bubble of joy swell inside him at the sheer absurdity of the situation. They raced each other through the empty corridors of Hogwarts, leaving breathless, muffled laughter behind at each corner, trying to shush each other in an effort to keep quiet, resulting in a new wave of giggles.
When he reached the main doors, Draco slowed down a bit, stepping outside and taking a deep breath of fresh air. It was still early in the morning; the sun hadn't completely risen yet and the dew on the grass twinkled in the light of dawn. It was a breathtaking view and the grounds were peacefully quiet.
"Got you!", Harry whispered form behind, spinning Draco around and giving him a quick kiss. He could get used to this, Draco decided. He could also get used to Harry taking his hand, intertwining their fingers, as if it was the most natural thing to do.
Draco felt a warm sensation prickling through his body, even though it was fairly cold outside. And considering Harry’s rosy cheeks and his bright eyes, he was sure he felt it too. See, he thought. I can help you get warm inside. And as he was walking down the path towards the Quidditch pitch, trying to hide his smile (though he was pretty sure he failed miserably since Harry was beaming at him in return), he was sure of it.
Draco really didn’t like Fridays. Saturdays though, he concluded, weren’t half bad.