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Harry couldn’t quite figure out why he was so nervous. It wasn’t like this was his first time at a fancy restaurant with Draco Malfoy. In fact, Draco had been dragging him to upscale places for months now—always choosing restaurants with low lighting, insisting on picking Harry up, and treating him to carefully chosen wines. Harry just assumed that this was Draco being Draco.
But tonight, as they sat across from each other at The Amortentia , Draco looking like he belonged in one of those glossy magazines with his perfectly pressed shirt and barely contained smirk, Harry felt his heart stutter. He’d been holding onto this ridiculous crush for long enough, and if he didn’t say something soon, he thought he might just implode.
While Draco’s attention was on the wine list, Harry pulled out his phone and typed out a message he’d half-jokingly practiced in his head.
but yeah so i kinda have a crush on you
Draco’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced down, eyebrows arching as he read the message, and then looked back at Harry, his face a perfect blend of shock and exasperation.
“Are you serious, Potter?” he asked, his voice dripping with disbelief. “You’ve got to be joking.”
Harry blinked. “Uh… yes? I mean, I thought it was time you knew?”
Draco looked up at the ceiling, letting out a huff as if summoning patience from above. “Have we not been on, like, three dates already? Or did I completely misread the entire situation?”
Harry’s brain screeched to a halt. “Wait… dates ?”
Draco rolled his eyes so hard Harry thought he might strain something. “Yes, Harry. Dates. Romantic dinners, private booths, me picking you up. What exactly did you think I was doing?”
Harry opened his mouth, then closed it, feeling his face turn bright red. “I… I thought you were just… you know, being fancy. ”
“Being fancy?” Draco’s voice went up an octave, his eyes flashing with a mix of amusement and horror. “You thought I’d been taking you out to Diagon Alley’s best restaurants, bringing you flowers, and walking you home just because I’m… what, posh?”
Harry squirmed in his seat, looking down at his hands. “Well, I don’t know! I figured you liked nice things, and you needed company?”
Draco groaned, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘unbelievable.’ “Potter, I’ve been dating you for four months. What, precisely, did you think was going on?”
Harry spluttered, feeling like he’d missed a very obvious memo. “I thought… Merlin, I don’t know what I thought! I didn’t realize you were serious!”
“Serious?” Draco repeated, staring at him incredulously. “Harry, I’ve been paying for expensive dinners and staring at you across candlelight for months now. Did you think I did that for fun ?”
Harry ran a hand through his hair, feeling utterly ridiculous. “Well, excuse me for not being fluent in Malfoy dating rituals, ” he shot back, a little defensive. “Not all of us get the manual.”
Draco snorted, shaking his head but looking thoroughly entertained. “Honestly, you’re insufferable.” But there was a fondness in his voice that hadn’t been there before, and as he looked at Harry, his expression softened. “So now that you’re finally caught up… are you going to ask me out properly, or do I have to do all the work around here?”
Harry let out a breathless laugh, feeling a smile tug at his lips. “Fine. Draco Malfoy, would you like to go on an actual date with me? You know… officially?”
Draco’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, his fingers brushing against Harry’s hand across the table. “Yes, Potter. I’d love to.”
Harry’s cheeks went pink, but he couldn’t stop grinning as they sat there, hands inching closer, the whole restaurant fading away. He couldn’t believe he’d been so oblivious, but he didn’t mind too much—not when Draco was looking at him like this.