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Harry Potter had been in a foul mood all morning, which wasn’t unusual given that he was once again dealing with his biggest problem: Draco Malfoy. They were on the Quidditch pitch, where Gryffindor and Slytherin were set to practice, but their usual bickering had already begun before anyone had even mounted a broomstick.
“You couldn’t catch a Snitch if it flew into your hands, Potter,” Draco sneered, flipping his blond hair out of his eyes in that infuriatingly elegant way that made Harry's heart skip a beat.
“And you couldn’t catch it if it had a Malfoy family crest on it, Malfoy,” Harry shot back, desperately trying to sound composed. He hoped his flushed cheeks could be blamed on the wind.
“Jealous, Potter?” Draco’s lips curled into a smirk that Harry had come to both dread and, if he was honest with himself, secretly adore.
Before Harry could come up with a retort, the practice kicked off, and the pitch erupted into the chaotic sound of brooms slicing through the air and teammates calling out to one another. Harry kept one eye on the Snitch and the other on Draco, which was exactly how he noticed the stray Bludger rocketing through the air toward Draco’s oblivious head.
Without thinking, Harry dove. His heart pounded as he tackled Draco mid-air, sending them both crashing onto the grass, the Bludger whizzing by harmlessly overhead.
Draco, breathless and wide-eyed, found himself sprawled beneath Harry. The surprise on his face quickly turned to something else—something calculating.
“Trying to play the hero, Potter?” Draco drawled, but there was a strange intensity in his gaze that Harry couldn’t quite place.
Harry, still hovering over Draco, stammered out, “You could’ve been knocked out, Malfoy. I was just—”
Draco cut him off by grabbing the front of Harry’s Quidditch robes and yanking him down into a fierce, unexpected kiss.
Harry’s brain short-circuited. The world tilted on its axis as he felt Draco’s lips on his, warm and demanding. He didn’t have time to process what was happening before Draco deepened the kiss, pulling Harry even closer. The rivalry, the bickering, the Quidditch match—all of it dissolved as Harry’s heart raced for a completely different reason.
When Draco finally pulled back, his expression was smug. “Now, we’re even,” he said, releasing Harry’s robes and shoving him off as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Harry, dazed and utterly gobsmacked, could only watch as Draco sauntered off, cool as a cucumber, and returned to practice as if he hadn’t just rocked Harry’s world.
Harry, on the other hand, couldn’t shake the daze that had overtaken him. He wandered through the rest of the day in a blissful haze, so much so that everyone around him began to notice his bizarre behavior.
At lunch, Seamus cracked one of his notoriously terrible jokes about a Hippogriff walking into a bar, and Harry burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Ron stared at him like he’d grown a second head.
Later, when Hermione suggested they take on extra homework to get ahead on their Potions assignment, Harry actually nodded enthusiastically. “Great idea, Hermione! Let’s start tonight!”
Hermione frowned, obviously worried. “Harry, are you feeling alright?”
“Never better!” Harry beamed, his mind still replaying the kiss in vivid detail. Hermione exchanged a concerned look with Ron.
The oddities continued in Potions, where Snape deducted five points from Gryffindor for Harry’s potion being slightly off-color. Normally, Harry would have muttered under his breath or glared, but today he just smiled brightly and said, “Thanks, Professor!”
Snape actually looked taken aback, his sharp features twisting in confusion before he dismissed the class, clearly unsettled.
The final straw came when Harry bumped into Blaise Zabini in the corridor after dinner. The Slytherin raised an eyebrow, ready for the usual Gryffindor-Slytherin confrontation, but instead, Harry grinned and said, “Sorry about that, Blaise. Have a good night!”
Blaise froze mid-step, blinking at Harry as if he’d lost his mind. He watched as Harry happily continued down the hall, whistling a cheerful tune.
By the time Harry reached the Gryffindor common room, he was practically floating on air. His friends, now thoroughly alarmed, cornered him as soon as he sat down.
“Alright, Harry, spill,” Ron demanded. “What in Merlin’s name is going on with you today?”
Harry just smiled dreamily, remembering the way Draco had looked at him right before the kiss. “Nothing at all,” he replied with a shrug, but the secret smile he wore suggested otherwise.
As his friends exchanged confused glances, Harry leaned back in his chair, his thoughts drifting back to that moment on the Quidditch pitch. He could still feel the ghost of Draco’s lips on his, and for the first time in forever, he felt completely and utterly happy.
And if his odd behavior had the entire school talking by the end of the day, well, that was just a bonus.
……..
Harry’s inexplicable good mood continued over the next few days, much to the bewilderment of everyone around him. He was practically glowing with happiness, floating through his days in a lovestruck haze, though he kept the reason for his newfound cheerfulness strictly to himself.
It wasn’t long before another chaotic situation arose—this time in the Forbidden Forest during a Care of Magical Creatures lesson. The class was supposed to be observing Bowtruckles, but the creatures had other plans. Someone (probably Pansy Parkinson, if the smirk on her face was any indication) managed to spook the Bowtruckles, sending the tiny, twig-like beings into a frenzied panic.
In the midst of the chaos, Harry noticed one of the creatures scampering up Draco’s leg, its tiny, sharp fingers scratching through Draco’s robes. Draco was swatting at it furiously, trying to keep his composure, but the situation quickly escalated when a nearby Bowtruckle decided that Draco’s hair was a perfect nest.
“Oh, for Salazar’s sake—get off!” Draco snapped, his wand flailing as the Bowtruckle tugged at his blond locks. The scene would have been amusing if it weren’t for the genuine distress on Draco’s face.
Without a second thought, Harry sprang into action, reaching out to gently coax the Bowtruckle away from Draco. With a few calm words, he managed to get the creature to climb onto his hand instead, easing Draco’s panic.
Draco, panting slightly and looking thoroughly embarrassed, glanced at Harry. “What is it with you and saving me, Potter?”
Harry just grinned, still holding the Bowtruckle safely. “Just can’t seem to help myself.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed, as if weighing his options. Then, with the same sudden determination as before, he grabbed Harry by the collar of his robe and pulled him into another searing kiss.
The forest around them seemed to fall away, leaving only the warmth of Draco’s lips on his. Harry’s mind went blissfully blank as Draco kissed him with surprising intensity, as if trying to erase any trace of his previous distress.
When Draco pulled back, his usual smirk returned. “Now, we’re really even,” he said, dusting off his robes and walking away as if kissing Harry was just another mundane task.
Harry stood there, rooted to the spot, the Bowtruckle now forgotten as it skittered off into the underbrush. He was smiling so widely his cheeks hurt, and the world seemed to glow a little brighter. He knew it wasn’t just the sunshine filtering through the trees.
For the rest of the day, Harry was more cheerful than ever. He hummed through Herbology, eagerly volunteered to help with Professor Sprout’s latest assignment, and even offered to carry the heavy buckets of water for her without a single complaint.
When he passed Filch in the hallway, instead of grumbling as usual, he greeted the grumpy caretaker with a cheerful, “Afternoon, Mr. Filch!” Filch stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, but Harry was already halfway down the corridor, whistling merrily.
The final straw for Ron and Hermione came at dinner that evening. Harry was laughing and chatting, completely oblivious to the concerned glances his friends kept exchanging.
“Harry, mate,” Ron said cautiously, after Harry had nearly choked on his pumpkin juice from laughing too hard at a joke Ron had only half-finished. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been acting… weird.”
Harry blinked at him, still grinning. “What do you mean?”
Hermione leaned in, her brow furrowed. “Harry, you’ve been in an unusually good mood for days now. It’s wonderful to see you so happy, but we’re a bit worried. You’ve been… different.”
“Yeah,” Ron added. “You didn’t even hex Malfoy back when he made that comment about your hair this morning.”
Harry’s smile grew even wider at the mention of Draco’s name. “I guess I’ve just decided not to let the little things bother me.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Harry, Snape assigned extra homework, and you *thanked* him.”
“Good practice, right?” Harry said with a nonchalant shrug, his mind clearly elsewhere. He was too busy replaying the feel of Draco’s lips on his to care about anything else.
Ron exchanged a bewildered look with Hermione. “Are you sure you haven’t been hit with a Confundus Charm or something?”
Harry just laughed, waving off their concerns. “I’m fine, honestly. Never better.”
Hermione sighed, glancing at Ron. “Harry, if something’s going on, you can tell us.”
“Yeah,” Ron added. “You’ve been acting like you’re in love or something.”
At that, Harry’s face flushed a bright red. “What? No, it’s not—I mean—” He fumbled for an excuse, but his friends were watching him too closely for comfort.
Hermione’s eyes widened. “Wait… you *are* in love, aren’t you?”
Harry’s blush deepened, and he suddenly found his plate of mashed potatoes very interesting. “I… I wouldn’t say that.”
Ron’s jaw dropped. “You are! Who is it? Why didn’t you tell us?”
Harry mumbled something incoherent, still staring at his food.
“Oh my God,” Hermione gasped, putting the pieces together. “It’s Malfoy, isn’t it?”
Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice again, his face going from red to crimson. “I—um—”
Ron looked like someone had hit him with a Bludger. “Malfoy? *Draco* Malfoy?”
Harry, cornered and clearly unable to lie, just nodded meekly, still too dazed by the memory of Draco’s kisses to care much about the consequences.
There was a long, stunned silence before Hermione spoke again, her tone gentle. “Harry, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because…” Harry finally looked up at them, his eyes still sparkling with that same inexplicable joy. “I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you how… amazing it feels.”
Ron and Hermione exchanged a look, then sighed in unison.
“Well, this is… unexpected,” Hermione said slowly, trying to process the revelation. “But if you’re happy…”
Harry’s grin returned, bright and unburdened. “I am. I really am.”
Ron shook his head, still in shock. “Blimey, mate. You’ve got it bad.”
Harry just smiled dreamily, his thoughts already drifting back to Draco, and for the rest of the evening, no amount of teasing from his friends could wipe the goofy grin off his face.
………..
It was late, well past curfew, and the halls of Hogwarts were eerily silent. Most students were already tucked into their dorms, but Harry was far from sleep. His heart had been racing all day, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Draco. The memory of their last kiss, the way Draco’s lips had lingered just a moment longer than necessary, played on a loop in his mind.
He couldn’t keep it to himself any longer.
Harry knew Draco’s routine as a Slytherin prefect—he always did his rounds last, meticulously patrolling the quieter parts of the castle. With a burst of determination, Harry threw on his Invisibility Cloak and slipped out of the Gryffindor common room, his feet moving almost of their own accord.
He found Draco exactly where he expected, in a dimly lit corridor near the Astronomy Tower, looking bored as he checked a list on his clipboard. Harry’s heart leaped into his throat as he watched Draco, every detail of the blond’s appearance making his pulse quicken. The way Draco’s hair fell perfectly into place, the slight frown on his lips as he concentrated, and even the way his robes draped elegantly around him—it was all too much.
Without giving himself time to overthink, Harry threw off the cloak and darted forward, grabbing Draco by the wrist and yanking him into a nearby abandoned classroom.
Draco barely had time to yelp in surprise before the door clicked shut behind them. He spun around, eyes wide. “Potter? What the hell are you—?”
Before Draco could finish, Harry leaned in and kissed him.
For a split second, Draco stiffened, his body going rigid with shock. But then, as if something clicked into place, he relaxed into the kiss, his hands finding their way to Harry’s shoulders, pulling him closer.
The kiss was intense, filled with all the feelings Harry had been bottling up for weeks—no, years. There was an urgency to it, like he was finally letting go of something he had been holding onto for far too long. Draco, for his part, responded with a mix of surprise and something else that felt dangerously close to enthusiasm.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. Draco’s cheeks were flushed, and he was looking at Harry with a mixture of confusion and amusement.
“Well, this is unexpected,” Draco drawled, though his voice was softer than usual. There was no hiding the slight tremor in his tone.
Harry, still dazed from the kiss, could only manage a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t keep it in any longer.”
Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to regain his usual composure. “You couldn’t have just… I don’t know, talked to me like a normal person?”
“Would you have listened?” Harry shot back, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
Draco pretended to think for a moment, then smirked. “Probably not. Still, you could have picked a better time. We’re out past curfew, you know.”
“I know,” Harry admitted, his hand still resting on Draco’s arm. “But I didn’t want to wait.”
Draco shook his head, though there was a glint of something soft in his eyes. “You’re reckless, Potter.”
“I know,” Harry repeated, his grin widening. “But so are you, for kissing me back.”
Draco opened his mouth to retort, but stopped himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Touché.”
For a moment, they just stood there, the only sound between them the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the distance. Then, Draco sighed, a resigned sort of exhale, as he leaned his head against Harry’s shoulder.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve started?” Draco murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Harry felt a rush of warmth flood his chest as he wrapped his arms around Draco, holding him close. “I’m not sorry.”
“Of course you’re not,” Draco replied, but there was no real bite to his words. Instead, he tilted his head up slightly, catching Harry’s gaze. “You Gryffindors really don’t do anything by half measures, do you?”
“Not when it comes to this,” Harry said, his voice soft but firm.
Draco let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re impossible, Potter.”
“Maybe,” Harry said with a grin, “but you like it.”
Draco rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the smile that was creeping onto his face. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to it.”
“You will,” Harry said, and before Draco could respond, Harry kissed him again, softer this time, but just as full of promise.
When they finally pulled away, Draco sighed dramatically, though his eyes were sparkling with amusement. “You’re going to be the death of me, Potter.”
Harry laughed, feeling lighter than he had in years. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Draco smirked, leaning in close, their noses almost touching. “You’d better.”
They stood there for a few more moments, just holding each other, the tension that had always simmered between them now transformed into something warmer, more tender.
Eventually, Draco pulled back slightly, glancing at the door. “We should probably get back before Filch finds us. I’m not keen on explaining why the Boy Who Lived and the Slytherin Prince were caught snogging in an abandoned classroom.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Harry agreed, though he made no move to let go. “But I’m not letting you go that easily.”
Draco chuckled, the sound low and pleasant in the quiet room. “Who said I want you to?”
With one last lingering kiss, they reluctantly separated, sneaking out of the classroom and back into the dimly lit corridor. Harry felt like he was walking on air as they made their way back to their respective common rooms, the thrill of what had just happened buzzing through him like an electric current.
As Draco slipped away down the hall, Harry couldn’t resist calling after him in a playful whisper, “See you tomorrow, Malfoy.”
Draco turned, giving him a smirk over his shoulder. “Count on it, Potter.”
And with that, Draco disappeared around the corner, leaving Harry grinning like an idiot as he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow, and the next day, and every day after that—because he knew now, without a doubt, that Draco felt the same way he did.
And that was all Harry needed to know.
……….
The next morning, Harry woke up before the sun had fully risen, an uncharacteristic spring in his step. He stretched, feeling more refreshed than he had in weeks, and couldn’t stop himself from humming a cheerful tune as he dressed for the day. The memory of last night’s encounter with Draco replayed in his mind, making his heart flutter all over again.
By the time he made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry was practically glowing. He was so lost in his happy thoughts that he didn’t even notice the curious looks from a few early-rising Gryffindors as he breezed past them.
Ron and Hermione were already at their usual spot, bleary-eyed and slowly working their way through bowls of porridge. They looked up in surprise when Harry plopped down across from them with a broad grin on his face.
“Morning!” Harry chirped, reaching for a slice of toast.
Ron blinked at him, rubbing his eyes as if to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Blimey, Harry, what’s got into you? You’re up early, and you look… well, you look like you’ve won the lottery or something.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes, immediately suspicious. “Harry, did something happen last night?”
Harry hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Then, with a quick look at Draco, who had just walked into the hall with his usual entourage, Harry’s smile grew even wider.
“Actually, yeah,” Harry said, leaning in closer to his friends. “I, uh, ran into Draco last night.”
Ron nearly choked on his porridge. “*Draco*?”
Hermione’s eyes widened, her curiosity piqued. “What happened?”
Harry hesitated for a moment, then decided to just go for it. “I kissed him,” he whispered, a blush creeping up his neck. “And… he kissed me back.”
There was a brief moment of stunned silence as Ron and Hermione processed what Harry had just said.
Hermione’s mouth fell open, and her hand flew to cover it, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Oh my God, Harry! That’s amazing!”
Ron, however, was not as composed. His face went through a series of emotions—shock, confusion, and then sheer disbelief—before he blurted out, much louder than necessary, “YOU’RE SNOGGING MALFOY?!?!”
The entire Great Hall went silent.
Every head turned toward the Gryffindor table, and for a split second, it felt like the whole school was holding its breath. Conversations came to an abrupt halt, forks clattered against plates, and even the ghosts hovering near the ceiling seemed to freeze in midair.
Harry’s face turned a deep shade of red, but before he could even think of what to say, Draco, who had been making his way to the Slytherin table, stopped dead in his tracks.
He looked over at Harry, their eyes meeting across the hall. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the stunned silence hanging in the air.
Then, as if on cue, Draco’s lips twitched into a smirk. He turned to face the sea of gaping faces, his usual cool composure slipping for just a second as his eyes met Harry’s again. With a casual shrug, he walked over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the whispers and stares.
“Really, Weasley,” Draco drawled as he stopped in front of Harry, “do you have to be so loud about everything?”
Harry, who was still blushing furiously, could only manage a sheepish smile. “Sorry, it sort of slipped out.”
Draco rolled his eyes but leaned down, planting a quick, deliberate kiss on Harry’s lips in front of the entire school. The hall erupted into gasps, followed by an explosion of chatter as everyone tried to make sense of what they had just witnessed.
Ron’s jaw dropped, and he looked like he might pass out, while Hermione was practically vibrating with barely contained excitement.
“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered, shaking his head as if trying to wake himself from a dream. “This is real, isn’t it?”
“Very real,” Draco replied smoothly, straightening up and casting a satisfied look around the hall. He then looked back down at Harry, his expression softening just a fraction. “I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now.”
“Guess so,” Harry said with a grin, feeling a warm, giddy sensation in his chest.
Hermione, still beaming, leaned over the table. “We’ll keep it quiet, Harry—well, quieter,” she added, shooting a teasing look at Ron, who was still trying to wrap his head around the situation.
But Harry just laughed, his earlier embarrassment melting away. “It’s alright. I’m done hiding.”
Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by Harry’s confidence. “That’s the spirit, Potter.”
As the noise in the hall began to return to normal, Draco gave Harry one last smirk before turning to leave. “I’ll see you later, then?”
“Definitely,” Harry replied, his eyes following Draco until he finally joined the rest of the Slytherins, who were all staring at him in various states of shock and disbelief.
Ron finally found his voice, albeit shakily. “Merlin’s beard, Harry. You really are dating Malfoy.”
“Yeah,” Harry said, still smiling as he watched Draco sit down, completely unfazed by the whispers and pointed looks from his housemates. “I am.”
Hermione reached over and squeezed Harry’s hand. “We’re happy for you, Harry.”
“Thanks,” Harry said, feeling a surge of gratitude for his friends. “It means a lot.”
As they resumed their breakfast, the initial shock in the Great Hall gradually subsided, though the buzz of gossip was still palpable. Harry could feel the occasional glance in his direction, but for once, he didn’t care.
Ron was still shaking his head in disbelief. “I just… can’t believe it. You and Malfoy.”
“Neither can I, honestly,” Harry admitted with a chuckle. “But it feels right.”
Hermione smiled warmly at him. “And that’s all that matters.”
As the morning went on, Harry’s mood only improved. He caught Draco’s eye a few more times throughout the day, each glance filled with unspoken affection. It was clear to both of them that the secrecy was over—and they didn’t mind one bit.
By the time classes started, the news had spread like wildfire, but instead of the dread Harry might have once felt, he was filled with an overwhelming sense of relief. He didn’t have to hide how he felt anymore, and knowing that Draco felt the same way made everything worth it.
As they walked to their first class, Ron nudged Harry with a grin. “You know, mate, I’m never going to get used to this.”
Harry laughed, clapping Ron on the back. “You’ll manage.”
Hermione chimed in, her tone teasing. “You might want to get used to it quickly, Ron. I have a feeling this is just the beginning.”
And as Harry glanced across the hallway, catching Draco’s eye once more, he knew Hermione was right.
This was just the beginning of something amazing.