Work Text:
***
“Hello! It’s Harry here.”
Harry smiled brightly at the camera, deft fingers straightening the black bandana he had wrapped around his forehead.
“Ron is joining me in today’s video,” Harry announced, as Ron slid into view of the camera and gave a little wave. “Recently I asked you on Twitter which challenge you wanted to see us do next, and we had an overwhelming number of you asking us to do the Tin Can Challenge.”
Harry and Ron both gestured at the unlabelled tins that were laid out on the table in front of them.
“So guess what we’re doing today,” Harry grinned.
“I’m so excited for this,” Ron said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “Thank you for requesting this, viewers.”
“Ron loves to eat, as many of you probably already know,” Harry laughed. “Now, if you don’t know what the Tin Can Challenge is, well...basically Ron’s brothers went out and bought ten tins of food, wrote a number on each tin, and removed the labels so we have no idea what’s in what.”
Harry held up a clear bowl filled with folded pieces of paper in it.
“We’re going to take it in turns to pick a number from the bowl, and we have to eat a spoonful of whatever’s in the corresponding tin. If we swallow it, we get a point; if we spit it out we get nothing,” Harry explained. “Ron’s brothers are Fred and George, and they have their own channel at Weasley’s Wheezes—I’ll put the link below. They do a lot of prank videos, so I can only imagine the sort of stuff they’ve picked for us to eat. Five good ones and five bad ones, they’ve promised us.”
Ron snorted. “I can imagine. Having them as older brothers has really prepared me for dealing with anything gross. I reckon I can see a corned beef tin on the table.” Ron shuddered. “I hate corned beef.”
“Who’s going first? Rock, Paper, Scissors?” Harry held his fist out ready, and Ron raised his own. “One, two, three.”
Harry held two fingers out like scissors, and Ron kept his fingers clenched but twisted his fist to the front.
“Rock beats scissors,” Ron said smugly. “Harry always goes for scissors; I think it’s because he’s so used to making peace signs in photos.”
“Feck off with your peace hating,” Harry retorted lightly, giving Ron’s shoulder a gentle shove. “You go first, then.”
Ron reached into the bowl and grabbed a piece of paper, unfolding it to reveal the number three. He picked up the matching tin and gave it a little shake.
“Sounds gloopy,” Ron murmured, and Harry gave the camera a pointed look and a little smirk.
Ron used the tin opener to get the lid off, and a look of relief passed over his face. “It looks like a soup of some sort!”
“Cold soup, though,” Harry pointed out as Ron took a mouthful of the cream coloured liquid.
“Not bad,” Ron murmured around the spoon, swallowing heavily. “Reckon that was a chicken soup. So one point to me?”
“One point to you,” Harry agreed, and made a mental note to add a scoreboard onto the video when it came to editing. “My turn.”
Harry picked the number eight and opened the respective tin with slight apprehension.
“Sweetcorn!” he announced in relief, tilting the tin to show the camera. “I love sweetcorn.”
He took a spoonful and swallowed it easily.
“A point each,” Ron declared, holding up a finger on each hand.
Ron’s next pick got him number five, and he proudly showed off the syrupy fruit in the tin once he opened it. “I think it’s peach.”
“Ron’s favourite character to play as on Mario Kart, incidentally,” Harry joked as Ron ate the peach with ease.
“Two points to me,” Ron said happily. “And I don’t play as Princess Peach, for the record.”
“Mmhmm,” Harry teased. “That’s three good tins gone already, which means this game isn’t going to be fun for much longer. Number seven.”
Harry’s nose crinkled as he opened it. “Gross—mushy peas!”
“I wish I’d had that one!” Ron groaned. “I love mushy peas!”
“And I do not,” Harry grimaced at the camera. “They just feel wrong. Why did people feel the need to make peas mushy? They were fine as they were; comment below if you agree.”
Harry screwed his eyes shut as he took a spoonful, shuddering as he managed to swallow the peas. “That was not fun,” he muttered, wiping his mouth distastefully with the back of his hand. “Two points each.”
“Number ten,” Ron announced, holding his next pick up. “Get in!” he shouted, pumping his fist as he revealed the tin of strawberries.
“This seems very unfair,” Harry pretended to huff as Ron ate a large spoonful of strawberries.
“A little bit too sweet,” Ron commented, lips tightening for a moment. “But that’s an easy third point to me.
“You’re easy,” Harry jested, reaching in for his next number. “Number four.”
He opened the tin, and instantly leaned away from it when he was a hit with an intensely meaty smell.
“What even is it?” Harry exclaimed, clapping a hand over his mouth.
Ron took one look at the contents and burst out laughing, holding up the tin to show the almost jellified meat to the camera.
“Some sort of lunch tongue, I reckon,” Ron managed through fits of laughter. “My Grandma used to love it.”
“Oh, no,” Harry groaned, keeping one eye shut as he tried to dig out a piece with his spoon. He hesitated before putting it in his mouth. “It doesn’t even smell that bad,” he reasoned. “It’s just the idea of eating tongue.”
Harry closed his eyes and went for it, and immediately reached for the plastic carrier to spit it back out. “No, no, sorry. I can’t bring myself to swallow it.”
“And that makes the score three-two to me!” Ron announced cheerfully. “I’ll have a mouthful, see?”
“That’s my tin; you don’t get a point for that,” Harry teased as Ron smiled smugly as he swallowed a bit of the lunch tongue.
“I hope you get a bad one,” Harry said, crossing his fingers as Ron picked his next number.
“Fuck!” Ron exclaimed, slamming his fists down onto the table. “Fucking number one!”
It was Harry’s turn to burst out laughing, as Ron angrily eyed the tin with the pull-down handle that could only be corned beef.
“Quit your swearing,” Harry said, wiping his eyes that were tearing up from his laughter. “I don’t want to have to bleep out this whole part.”
“Ugh, this is what I get for teasing you,” Ron groaned pitifully as he awkwardly tried to open the tin. “Why are these tins so bloody hard to open?”
Ron finally managed it and eyed his spoonful of corned beef with great distaste. “I don’t even think...here we go.”
Ron’s mouth closed around the spoon, and he instantly lowered his head to spit into the plastic bag, his face screwed up as he returned into view of the camera. “I’m still one point ahead; it’s fine. I can take the loss.”
“So three-two to Ron, still,” Harry informed the camera with a smile. “I think,” Harry murmured, pausing to think over the last tins, “that there’s only one good tin left. Let’s see what I get...number two.”
“I’ll take this,” Harry said with great relief when he saw the contents, holding the tin up for the camera. “Spaghetti hoops; I actually quite like these cold.”
“A favourite meal of university students everywhere, along with the classic baked beans,” Ron added seriously, before cracking a grin.
Harry ate the spoonful quite happily. “Three all.”
“What do we do if there’s a tie?” Ron asked as he tried to decide between the two pieces of folded paper.
“Then we both have the satisfaction of winning, combined with the disappointment of losing,” Harry answered with a wide smile, winking and aiming a finger gun at the camera.
“Number six,” Ron said, opening the tin as he spoke. “Oh, gross!”
Harry clapped a hand over his nose as he was met by a fishy smell.
“I don’t even know what this is,” Ron murmured as he held up a piece of some sort of fish coated in a tomato sauce. “Like a sardine or something. Here goes…”
Ron grimaced as he chewed the fish, and he pulled a tiny bone from his mouth before swallowing the mouthful.
“That was rotten,” Ron summarised, before taking a big drink of water. “Four-three to me. Last one, Harry.”
“Number nine, if you’re interested,” Harry laughed as he opened the tin, but his laughter faded as he saw the insides. “Ron may as well have the win now because I actually despise mushrooms.”
Harry gave it a go anyway, but as soon as he felt the slimy feeling in his mouth he couldn’t keep them in. He spat them out into the plastic bag, and eagerly took a long sip of water.
“Yes!” Ron cheered, throwing his arms in the air. “I win, with four points to me and only three to Harry!”
Harry gave Ron a reluctant round of applause.
“So if you enjoyed the challenge, please like the video, and subscribe if you want to see more like this. If you want to see more challenges like this, then let us know what you want us to do next. Links to Ron’s channel and Fred and George’s are below, so go and check them out for some awesome content. Until next time,” Harry ended with a smile, and both he and Ron waved at the camera before Harry clicked it off.
“Your mum asked if she could have the tins after we were done,” Harry informed Ron with a teasing smile. “I hate to think what this combination could make.”
“Oh, God,” Ron groaned. “And she’ll ask me to stay for dinner when I go round to drop them off. Fancy ordering pizza so I can say I’ve already eaten?”
“I don’t even want to think about eating again yet,” Harry said with a laugh. “Maybe later, though.” Pizza and diet coke were always a good combination when editing videos.
“I can make that work,” Ron shrugged. “Can I borrow your laptop quickly? I want to see if Hermione’s new video’s online yet.”
Hermione was Harry’s other best friend and Ron’s ex-girlfriend, though the two of them were still on friendly terms. Hermione lived with Ron’s sister Ginny in an apartment not too far from Harry and Ron’s, and she tended to upload videos about book reviews or historical facts made alive with period-accurate costumes.
“Why are all your recommended videos about The Cure? I thought you’d have watched everything by them by now,” Ron commented as he scrolled down Harry’s YouTube page. “Hey, why are you subscribed to Draco Malfoy?”
Harry felt his face flush red. Draco Malfoy was a popular YouTuber who had started off uploading videos of him playing impressive songs on piano, and gradually evolved into cooking recipes, rants, and almost daily vlogs about his life as guy who’d obviously grown up with a lot of money. He came across as a bit of a snob but people seemed to love him for it, and he was rather attractive with his bleach blond hair, high cheekbones, and sharp features—not that Harry would ever admit it.
“I just find it easier to laugh about what a prick he is if I keep updated with his videos,” Harry shrugged, trying to sound casual, and luckily Ron bought it.
“Oh. Come here a second, will you, mate?” Ron asked, the topic of Draco Malfoy now forgotten.“Hermione promised me I didn’t look ridiculous in the Shakespeare outfit, but what do you think?”
***
“Hello, it’s Draco here, and today I’m being joined by the very lovely Pansy,” Draco said to the camera, giving a small wave with two fingers. “We have a very important topic to discuss with you today.”
“Star Wars,” Pansy said solemnly.
They both paused, before breaking into teasing smiles.
“Pansy and I both grew up with the original trilogy. I mean really, our parents grew up with them. And after the prequel trilogy we pretend never existed, we were both rather nervous about seeing The Force Awakens, weren’t we, Pansy?”
“Indeed,” Pansy agreed. “Although the fact that Domhnall Gleeson stars encouraged me to see it...I do love a redhead.”
“I’m more about brunettes, personally,” Draco countered. “But Kylo Ren reminds me far too much of my old chemistry teacher. Poe Dameron, on the other hand...well, regardless of the attractive cast, how did we feel about this movie, Pansy?”
They both gave the camera a thumbs up.
“If you’ve been watching either of our channels for a while, you’ll know we hardly ever agree on anything,” Draco said. “So you know if the new Star Wars has both of our approval then it must be good.”
“To me it had the charm as the originals,” Pansy said thoughtfully, tapping her black painted nails on the worktop. “Chewbacca always frightened me, though; that hasn’t changed.”
“And attractiveness aside, the characters in this new movie were all rather likeable,” Draco added. “I also appreciated that Oscar Isaac played Poe as being attracted towards Finn. I don’t know if they’re going to make them a canon same-sex pairing, but I’ll be sorely disappointed if they don’t.”
“You might want to prepare for disappointment,” Pansy said warningly. “I don’t know if the people in charge will have the guts to do it.”
“Hmm,” Draco scoffed. “Well, ignoring the casual homophobia in filmmaking for now, how great was it to hear lightsabers again? When I was a child my father bought me an authentic, custom-made lightsaber, and I just remember wielding it like a weapon every time they asked me to do something I didn’t want to do.”
“And talking of merchandise,” Pansy smiled. “I have just bought myself a BB-8 replica. It’s the same cuteness level as having a pet, but without the work or the mess.”
“BB-8 was a wonderful addition,” Draco agreed. “So to celebrate him, Pansy and I are going to show you how to make BB-8 cookies in a very easy recipe. I bet you were all wondering why we were talking about Star Wars in a kitchen.”
They each went to get the bowls of ingredients they had prepared earlier, which would be edited out to look like the ingredients appeared on the worktop as Pansy named them.
“So for this recipe you’re going to need 225g of softened butter, 110g of caster sugar, and 275g of plain sugar; that’s going to make the base cookie,” Pansy explained.
“And for the decorations you simply need royal icing sugar, and orange, black, and grey food colouring,” Draco added. “If you can’t find grey, simply add various different food colourings to white icing until the colour turns to grey. You’ll also need two sizes of circular cookie cutters, and four or five small and clean paintbrushes. ”
“So, first of all, you want to add the butter to a food mixer to make it a creamy consistency,” Pansy stated, tipping the butter into their own food mixer. “You can do it by hand but come on, who wants to do that?”
“Once it’s creamy tip your sugar in but keep blending,” Draco said, demonstrating for the camera.
“Then you need to add your flour,” Pansy added, doing so. “And keep an eye on it until the mixture becomes doughy.”
When their dough was ready, Pansy switched off the machine and got to work with a rolling pin.
“You need to make it fairly flat,” Draco explained, “but not too thin that you’ll get no cookie from it.”
“Once the dough is flat enough,” Pansy said, “you can start using your cookie cutters. You need an equal number of large and small circles because one part will be the body and the other part will be the head.”
Draco stepped in to help here, cutting out several circles in the dough.
“Now, with one on the paintbrushes,” Draco stated, “simply dab a bit of water on one edge of the small circle and one edge of the large, and press them both together. This will make them stick together while they bake. They’ll want to go into an oven for 15 minutes, at about 180 degrees.”
Pansy held up the tray of cookies to show what they should look like. While she put them into the oven, Draco retrieved the tray of cookies that had been baked the day before.
“We made these ones earlier because they need to cool completely before you ice them,” Draco explained, “and why wait around when you can just have double the cookies later? So, first of all, you’ll want a bowl of royal icing sugar; 500g should mix with four tablespoons of cold water. Once you’ve done that, separate the icing mixture into four.”
“You’re going to leave one of the mixtures white,” Pansy continued. “Then to one add the orange colouring, to another add black, and to the last either add grey or a combination of colours until it turns grey.”
“The first thing you’ll want to do it cover the cookies in the white icing, and then leave that to harden,” Draco said, lifting up the one cookie that they had done earlier to demonstrate the final step. “If you add the other colours too soon then you’ll just smudge everything. We left this one to harden for a few hours.”
“The final step is just to decorate BB-8 as well as you can,” Pansy finished with a smirk while Draco used the paintbrush to get the cookie resembling BB-8 as well as he could. “Ta-da!” she grinned as Draco held up the finished product.
“And there you have it,” Draco said, bringing his hands together in front of him. “Please like this video if you’ve enjoyed it, and subscribe if you aren’t already. If you want to leave a hate comment, please do—just remember that I’m more successful than you’ll ever be. And head over to Pansy’s channel, where I am modelling for her Kylo Ren inspired makeup look.”
“He lost a bet,” Pansy added with a wicked grin. “See you over at my channel; link below.”
Draco shut the camera off and turned to fix Pansy with a pointed look. She already had a cookie stuffed in her mouth, and she raised a perfectly groomed brow as she swallowed her bite.
“What?” she asked bewildered.
“I’m still not happy about you trying to make me look like Mr Snape,” Draco informed her. “I’d be much more agreeable if I didn’t have to wear the wig.”
“The wig makes the look, Draco; you can’t be Kylo Ren without it,” Pansy muttered, rolling her eyes. “I’m borrowing your phone for a minute; I want to check my comments from my last video.”
Draco waved his hand in agreement and regretted it as soon as he heard Pansy’s excited gasp.
“Oh, hello!” Pansy exclaimed. “Draco, I wasn’t aware you were subscribed to that Harry Potter. See, he’s just uploaded a video with that cute friend of his.”
Draco froze for a moment but luckily Pansy didn’t notice.
Harry Potter was a fellow YouTuber who made a lot of challenge videos and had an on-going prank war with his best friend Ron. Draco found Harry a bit over-the-top and childish, but he couldn’t deny his good looks. His eyes were the brightest green that Draco had ever seen, and his inky black hair was disastrously messy—Draco wouldn’t be caught dead with a single strand of his own hair out of place—but Harry seemed to make it work. Harry had a nose ring, always had a bandana wrapped around his forehead, and wore t-shirts of goth bands from the 1980’s. He was the opposite of Draco who was neat and stylish, but something about Harry drew Draco towards him—not that Draco would ever admit that out loud.
“I just like to remind myself that I’m not a commoner,” Draco said casually. “It’s a self-esteem boosting thing.”
“Mmhmm,” Pansy muttered as though she didn’t quite believe him.
It was no matter, though; Draco had no intention of contacting Harry so his minor crush was hardly worth mentioning. It was nothing but an online appreciation for good looks, that was all.
***
“Hey, guys,” Harry said into the camera, a bright smile on his face. “I have some exciting news for you all.”
“On the fifth of November, I have been invited to YT-Con, which, if you don’t know, is a convention for YouTube creators and fans alike. There’s gonna be lots of vloggers there, stalls, merchandise, meet and greets, talks...anything you can think of to do with YouTube and online blogging,” Harry explained, pausing to give him time to edit in a poster of the convention later. “I will have a stall there, where I’ll be selling merchandise and doing meet and greets.”
Harry clapped his hands together, flashing another smile.
“YT-Con is running the fifth and sixth of November, and will be at Hogwarts Hall in London. Hogwarts Hall is an amazing place; it’s a really old building that’s been completely renovated inside by this eccentric billionaire called Dumbledore. If you know of Dumbledore then you’ll know just how amazing and quirky it’s going to look inside.”
Harry paused again, knowing he would add a photo of the hall when he edited the video later.
“I’ll put the link to the official website below so that you can buy tickets,” Harry said, using a finger on each hand to point downwards. “Can you resist the opportunity to get to meet me?” he added with a laugh, pointing a finger gun at the screen.
“Ron and Hermione are going to be there as well; Fred and George; my friend Neville who runs a gardening vlog...and they’re just my friends. There’s going to be YouTubers coming from all over the UK, plus some special guests from other countries. I don’t think you’ll want to miss it.”
Harry gave a thumbs-up to the camera and gave it a wink.
“So go and book your tickets because I’d love to meet you,” Harry said with a final smile. “I hope to see some of you there.”
***
YT-Con had felt like it had been ages coming, so now it was finally happening Draco didn’t quite know what to make of it.
Hogwarts Hall itself was an odd place, with a vivid purple carpet, and stone walls lined with portraits of historical people throughout the ages. In the centre of the entrance hall there had been a massive golden statue of a phoenix, but thankfully the main hall was void of any mythical creature statues.
Lots of tables had been lined up at each side of the hall, allowing plenty of room for the many guests who would no doubt be coming once the event started properly. Draco had been to a similar convention last year and the place had ended up pretty packed.
He found his allocated table and began unpacking the photographs and merchandise he had brought with him, which mostly consisted of wristbands, rings and necklaces, notebooks, and magnets, which each had ‘Draco’ written in a fancy scrawl, with his logo of a dragon which his friend Theo had designed for him. While Draco had a large number of subscribers and fans, he still didn’t have quite enough to warrant selling clothing and things like phone cases yet, but he hoped to sell those in the future.
Draco heard a noise at the table next to him, and his eyes widened when he turned around to see who it was.
Harry Potter—the cute but annoying YouTuber who Pansy had been teasing him about for the last fortnight—was setting up at the table next to Draco’s! He had the usual bandana wrapped around his forehead and was wearing a black t-shirt which simply had a pair of eyes on it with ‘Siouxsie and the Banshees’ written below them, and black skinny jeans which showed off his slim legs. Thankfully Harry was too busy setting up to notice Draco’s appraisal of him, which was lucky considering Draco found his gaze lingering around Harry’s thighs.
Running a hand through his hair to make sure it was flat—though compared to the nest that Harry called hair it probably wouldn’t have mattered if Draco’s wasn’t completely neat—Draco cleared his throat to gather Harry’s attention.
Harry glanced up at him, his lips slightly parted as he gave Draco’s form a quick study.
“Hi,” Harry said brightly, offering his hand. “I’m Harry; you’re Draco, right?”
Draco nodded, clasping the offered hand tightly to shake it.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get over that, you know,” Harry continued, hands moving quickly over his own merchandise as he spoke. “Knowing who people are before actually meeting them, I mean. I reckon I know most of the names of the people in here, but I’ve not met that many. It’s strange, isn’t it?”
“I suppose,” Draco answered with a light shrug. “Most of them want you to know their name; isn’t that why people join YouTube?”
“Or just because it’s fun,” Harry said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Do you want your name up in lights?”
“I do,” Draco nodded. “There’s no shame in ambition.”
Harry raised a hand to run it through his hair, the brightly coloured jelly bracelets he wore falling slightly down his slender wrists.
“So is this your first YouTube convention?” Harry asked, taking a seat at his table as he finished setting up.
Draco took a seat at his own table. “I went to a couple of others last year, and one the year before that but not as a stallholder. And yourself?”
“The same as you,” Harry replied, turning to fix Draco with another smile.
Harry’s lips, Draco noticed, were slightly bruised and torn as though he had been biting down on them a lot. Either that or somebody else had been biting them, but that idea left Draco feeling a little bit jealous.
“Have you ever watched any of my videos?” Harry asked, drumming his fingers on the table in front of him.
“Briefly,” Draco lied. “They seem a bit childish for my taste; no offence if that’s what you’re into.”
Draco couldn’t help himself; snark came so easily to him. Harry, however, didn’t seem overly irked.
“You have to spend years being an adult, so why not enjoy youth as long as you can?” Harry retorted with a wicked smile.
Draco smirked. “Is that why you still dress like a sixteen-year-old?”
Harry’s mouth opened in shock, but whatever response he had lined up was put on hold when an announcement rang out through the loudspeakers.
“The first annual YT-Con is about to start. Please be considerate, but more importantly, have fun!”
There was a bing to signal the end of the announcement, and then the main doors opened to welcome in a crowd of people. There were certain tables that large groups flocked to straight away, but fans just as eager moved down the hall to the slightly less well-known YouTubers where Draco was situated.
His first fan was a girl he had met the year before at another convention, easily recognisable by her lilac hair. She bought a signed photograph and posed with him for a selfie, before moving on with a dreamy smile on her face. Draco then welcome the next fan, and the one after that, and the one after that.
Draco couldn’t help himself from glancing over at Harry, who had about the same amount of people in his queue as Draco had in his. Harry caught his eye and winked at him, before turning his attention to a girl with bright blue hair.
Draco felt his stomach flutter at Harry’s wink, and the girl at his table gave him a knowing smile.
“He’s alright, that one, isn’t he?” she said, jerking her head towards Harry.
“If you’re into Monster High, I guess,” he replied, referencing a range of dolls dressed and made up to look like various monster characters.
Harry snorted. “Beats looking like a Ken doll.”
“Do you want to know a secret?” Draco heard Harry say loudly to a fan a bit later on. “You see that bloke Draco next to me? His hair isn’t really blond.”
“What?!” Draco exclaimed before he could help himself, blushing slightly as he heard amused laughter coming from both his and Harry’s queue. “This is my natural colour.”
“Funny how it looks like L’oréal Extreme Platinum,” Harry scoffed, giving Draco a teasing smile.
“I can assure everyone this is all natural,” Draco stated to his queue, laying his fingers against the roots of his hair to prove it. Harry may have been playing, but it wouldn’t do for Draco to be seen as dying his hair.
After a couple of hours, the fun was wearing off a bit; there was only so many times he could smile and take selfies with people without getting fed up of it. Draco found himself surprised but grateful when Harry offered him a bottle of water from his bag.
The day went on and Draco was pleased to see his merchandise selling. He kept up the banter with Harry throughout the event, because it gave him something to do. The fans seemed to enjoy it as well, and quite a lot of them left one queue and went straight to the other.
It had been an enjoyable day, but Draco wasn’t all that disappointed when the final guests left and the doors closed. He was tired, and he was looking forward to a nice soak in the tub when he got home.
“Are you going to the after-party?” Harry asked, absent-mindedly straightening his bandana. “Apparently there’s going to be a foam machine. If you’re into that kind of thing.”
“I’m not,” Draco said. Foam would ruin his good clothes, and all of his clothes were good.
“Oh,” Harry murmured, and he actually sounded disappointed. “Could I have your number? I was thinking maybe we could do a collab sometime, if you want. I think our clashing characters work quite well together.”
Clashing characters was one way to put it. Still, Draco wasn’t a fool, and when an attractive guy wanted his number…
“Thanks,” Harry smiled as he typed in the number that Draco read out to him. “Where abouts do you live?”
“Shoreditch,” Draco answered, lip curling at the sight of Harry’s slightly surprised look. “And you?”
“Camden,” Harry said, and Draco probably could have guessed that. “So we’re what, like twenty minutes apart? Not bad.”
No, Draco had to agree, it wasn’t bad at all.
***
Harry had enjoyed himself at YT-Con, and had been pleased to find out that his fanbase had enjoyed meeting him there. One comment that kept popping up had caught Harry’s attention in particular, which was that the fans had enjoyed his interactions with Draco.
Draco was a bit of an odd one, a bit uppity but with a decent sense of humour and a strange charm. Normally Harry found himself quite irritated by the snobby rich kid types like his cousin Dudley, but in person Draco had proven himself to not be that bad.
Of course, Draco’s good looks may have helped sway Harry’s decision. Draco had certainly made a good first impression in those form-fitting dark-wash jeans and navy blue jumper over a paler blue shirt, and with his hair all neat and thick and soft looking on top of his head.
Draco was on his way over to Harry’s now. Harry had text him about doing a collab together, and Draco had eventually agreed to it as long as it was “nothing that would make him look stupid.”
The truth was, while Harry thought his fans would enjoy the collab too, really he wanted an excuse to see Draco again. Harry knew that nothing would come of his little crush on Draco—they were too different—but it couldn’t hurt to at least get to know Draco a little better.
When Draco arrived, Harry could see him give the apartment a quick appraisal. Harry knew it looked a bit odd inside; Harry favoured dark colours and band related items while almost everything Ron owned was in the same shade of orange as his favourite football team; Hull City.
Harry found Draco’s distaste quite amusing, as it seemed to be directed towards the mass of orange rather than anything Harry owned.
“I didn’t think this was your colour,” Draco muttered, gingerly holding a bright orange and black striped Hull City cushion.
“That’s Ron’s,” Harry explained. “He’s really into his football.”
“Your ginger friend?” Draco questioned. “Doesn’t he know this colour must clash awfully with his hair?”
“I don’t think he cares, to be honest,” Harry shrugged. “Do you want a drink or anything?”
Harry showed Draco to the recording room while he went to make their drinks, and set them down on a small table which was set away from all of the electrical items. Harry rather liked his recording room, with the big The Cure banner decorating the wall facing the camera, lit up by fairy lights that were shaped like bats.
“Alright, so we just face here,” Harry explained, pointing to the main camera that Harry had set up. “I’ll edit out anything bad later so don’t worry if you mess up or anything.”
Draco scoffed. “I don’t mess up.”
“Shame your fly’s undone then,” Harry lied dryly, cracking into laughter when Draco’s hands immediately flew to his zipper. “Oh my God, your face!”
Draco shoved Harry’s shoulder lightly, his cheeks a pale pink from blushing.
“You know, inviting me to your home like this...you’re lucky I’m not a serial killer,” Draco said darkly, quirking his brows.
“You’re lucky I’m not a serial killer, coming into my home,” Harry retorted quickly.
They stared at each other a moment, before breaking into smiles.
“Let’s get on with the video,” Draco said. “I’m still not sure I want to do the challenge.”
“It’ll be fun,” Harry promised, reaching over to set the camera to record. “Having fun is fun; you should try it sometime. Hi everyone; it’s Harry again. As you can see, today I’m joined by a new guest; this is Draco of DragonProductions—the link to his channel will be below.”
“Hello,” Draco said, giving the camera a two-fingered wave. “Have you ever been to a new place and realised you may have just entered a crypt? That’s how I feel right now.”
“Draco is a fan of his misery,” Harry said teasingly. “He doesn’t really want to do this challenge, but I’m making him do it even though I don’t really want to do it either; the Bertie Bott’s Challenge.”
“If you don’t know what that is,” Draco added, “it’s basically a barbaric sweet company who decided to make a pack of jelly beans with a twist; there’s nine different colours and two beans of each, only one of them will taste good and the other will taste bad.”
“Rumour has it that they made the choice to make bad flavours to put kids off eating sweets, but instead it just made even more eat them so they could film it and put it on the internet,” Harry grinned, pointing a finger gun at the screen. “Great work, Bertie Bott.”
Draco, his expression void of anything, held a finger gun against his own head and pulled the ‘trigger’ pretending to collapse off screen.
Harry couldn’t help but laugh, even as he rolled his eyes. He knew Draco had it in him to be fun, even if he was a bit haughty about it.
“Draco Malfoy, everyone,” Harry said, gesturing to Draco as he reappeared on the screen. “Is that even your real name, by the way?”
“It is,” Draco answered with a sigh. “My parents enjoy the Latin language and astronomy because that’s what rich parents-to-be apparently love the most.”
Harry grinned again as he reached to hold the jelly bean box up to the camera.
“This is a very tiny box but seems to cause a lot of pain,” Harry said as he used a remote to control the second camera to zoom onto the table as he emptied the jelly beans out onto it. “I’ve seen people’s reactions to this and thought ‘how bad could it really be?’, but Ron tried it with Hermione and even he said the bad ones were hardly edible. Okay, er, the lilac ones look pretty; let’s start with them.”
Draco studied the back of the box. “Marshmallow or soap. Not overly bad, I suppose.”
“Did your parents ever threaten to wash your mouth out with soap?” Harry asked conversationally as they each chose a lilac bean. “My uncle always said he would to me.”
“No, I got away with everything,” Draco answered, giving the camera a smug smirk.
“I’m somehow not surprised,” Harry laughed. He held the bean up. “Cheers.”
For such a small jelly bean, the taste of soap was so strong that Harry actually felt like he’d had a bar of it shoved into his mouth. “Eh,” he muttered, managing to swallow the bean but not enjoying it.
Draco looked contemplative as he ate his. “What is there to say about marshmallow, really?”
“Better than the soap, trust me,” Harry muttered, holding a hand up in distaste. “Winner gets to pick the next colour, do you think?”
Draco didn’t answer, his eyes already roaming to find his pick. “Let’s do the lighter brown ones. These are apparently cinnamon or beef.”
“I know beef is meant to be the bad one, but I really hate cinnamon,” Harry said with a shudder. “I’ll put the link below in case you didn’t see it, but Ron and I did the Cinammon Challenge a couple of months ago and I’ve been put off ever since.”
“Definitely some interesting faces in that video,” Draco added, not noticing the way Harry’s head snapped towards him. Draco had said he’d only vaguely seen Harry’s videos before, but that didn’t sound like a vague viewer; perhaps Harry had more chance than he thought.
They each ate their bean, and Harry was met with the taste of roast beef.
“Oh, that’s weird,” he murmured as he chewed it, getting a strange mix of the natural sweetness of the jelly bean combined with the rich, savoury taste of beef. “It’s beef; not bad, but weird.”
Draco didn’t look too impressed with his own bean. “I’ve never liked cinnamon.”
“So do I win that one?” Harry asked. “I liked mine, kind of.”
“No, the beef is meant to be the bad flavour,” Draco answered, shaking his head. “Hmm, how about orange next?”
“Orange,” Harry read from the box, “is either orange—how original—or curry.”
That time, Harry got the good bean and he gave a little cheer to the camera. He couldn’t help but laugh as Draco pulled a face, swallowing his own bean heavily.
“Curry isn’t supposed to be a jelly bean,” Draco whined. “The taste itself wasn’t bad, but it was just wrong.”
Harry ran his finger above the remaining beans, before settling on the light green ones.
“These are apple or grass,” he stated as he and Draco picked.
“Why do I almost always get the bad ones?” Harry moaned as the strange taste of grass filled his mouth. “It’s like someone mowed the garden and literally shoved the grass clippings into a jelly bean.”
Draco fixed Harry with an amused smirk. “The apple one is delicious.”
“I really love apple flavour, too,” Harry huffed.
Draco picked the dark brown ones next, which was either chocolate or dirt.
Draco choked almost as soon as he put the bean in his mouth. “I thought you were exaggerating about the grass, but this actually does taste like a garden.”
“The chocolate’s alright,” Harry shrugged. “It’s more like artificial chocolate, though, so nothing great. So I think so far Draco has three points and I have two.”
“I don’t even know why we’re taking points if there’s no prize,” Draco muttered. “Or maybe Harry will give me my prize later,” he added, winking at the camera.
Harry promptly choked.
“I’ve seen what those comments say,” Draco said, giving Harry a sly smile. “The fans seem to love the idea of us a couple.”
So that was it, then. It was for the fans. Not that Harry was disappointed; there was nothing to be disappointed over, because he’d known all along that asking Draco on a date was out of the question. Harry’d at least hoped that Draco was interested in him as a person, at least a little bit.
“Next one,” Harry said, a little sharper than he meant it to sound. “Er, pink. That’s grapefruit or salmon.”
Harry got grapefruit, which was delicious. Draco got salmon, which evidently was not delicious if Draco’s shudder was anything to go by.
“I think that was worse than the dirt, actually,” Draco muttered, before taking a big gulp of water.
“Aha, let’s do the big one—peach. This is either peach—again, original—or vomit,” Harry said to the camera with a dramatised grimace on his face.
This one was the one Harry had least been looking forward to, and he and Draco both hesitated longer than normal before putting the bean in their mouth.
Harry almost collapsed in relief when he tasted the sweet peach, but Draco bent down to disappear off camera as he promptly spat his bean out.
“Oh my God,” he gasped as he came back up. “That was just—no!”
He took a big swallow of water, ignoring Harry’s streams of laughter.
“I don’t even care if I get all bad from now on,” Harry grinned. “I avoided the big bad, so I’m good with whatever.”
“Ugh, I don’t even want to eat another jelly bean,” Draco groaned. “Good job I’m not a quitter.”
“At least you know nothing will probably be that bad now,” Harry reassured him, turning to give the camera a wide smile and a wink. “So currently I have four points and Draco has three. I’m going to pick red next, I think. This sounds fun—strawberry or chilli.”
Harry felt the spiciness almost as soon as the bean touched his lips. “Wow, that’s hot,” he gasped, clapping a hand over his mouth as he forced himself to eat the bean. “Wow,” he said again, reaching quickly for the glass of water.
Draco didn’t look too happy, either. “I can still taste the vomit bean so even strawberry doesn’t taste right anymore,” he said glumly. “But it’s four points each now.”
“Which leaves us with the last bean which is yellow, either being lemon or mustard,” Harry stated, waving his hands above the beans as if to display them. “The guest takes first pick.”
Draco wavered between the two before finally picking one, sharing a glance with Harry as they both ate their beans.
Draco pumped his fist in the air as he no doubt tasted the lemon, seeing as Harry was left with the bitterly strong tang of mustard.
“This was not a fun way to end the game,” Harry whined, suppressing a shudder as he swallowed the bean. “And it also means that you’re the winner!”
Draco gave himself a small round of applause. “I like to win.”
“But he only just won—remember that,” Harry said sternly to the camera, before breaking into a grin. “If you liked this video, please comment, like, and subscribe if you haven’t already. Also, if you head over to Draco’s channel you’ll see our Whisper Challenge video. Again, the link for Draco’s channel is in the description. Until next time.”
He and Draco both gave the camera a wave before shutting it down.
“So,” Harry said with a bright smile. “Shall we head over to yours so I can beat you at the Whisper Challenge?”
***
Draco ran his fingers across the grand piano that sat in his study. It was a beautiful instrument, all polished black and fine, ivory keys. It was Draco’s pride and joy, and he hadn’t been able to play a single piece of music on it in the last six months.
Draco’s father had taught him how to play, teaching him alongside one of the best piano tutors that Britain had to offer. Draco had been playing since he was four, and this was the first time in the seventeen years since that he had gone more than a week without playing.
As what had become usual in the last six months, Draco felt a strong sense of sadness washing over him as he imagined side-by-side with his father at the piano.
He grabbed his phone, angrily swiping through his contacts as he hurried away from the study and the memories it held.
“Hello?” It was Harry, and Draco had only been half-aware he had been ringing Harry.
Though he hadn’t known him long, Draco felt an odd sort of connection to Harry. They were very different people, both stylishly and socially, but Draco found himself drawn to Harry’s openness and his wicked sense of humour. He made Draco feel comfortable and relaxed, and Draco didn’t often find himself trusting or even liking people straight away.
“Hi,” Draco said, quickly trying to decide if he should lie or tell the truth about why he had called. He settled for the truth in the end. “I’m feeling a bit down; family stuff, you know? But I was wondering if you wanted to hang out for a bit; maybe we could go to the aquarium.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end, then; “alright, yeah. Shall I meet you there in say, half an hour?”
“I’ll be there,” Draco said.
London Aquarium was one of the places that Draco had tended to go with his father when he had been younger, as well as the history and science museums. Draco hadn’t been allowed pets, so frequent trips to the aquarium had been his parent’s compromise. Even as a young adult now, Draco still found it relaxing to walk and be almost amongst the fish, almost like losing himself in the water.
Harry was already waiting on a bench when Draco arrived, and he pulled Draco into a brief hug when he reached him.
“You doing alright?” Harry asked, and Draco nodded hurriedly.
“I just needed to get out,” Draco answered. “I didn’t fancy being at home.”
Harry nodded sympathetically. “I understand that feeling. Shall we go in?”
They paid for their tickets—Harry offered to pay for Draco, but Draco refused—and went through into the main part of the attraction. From floor to ceiling the tank reached, the blue of the water shining out into the dark viewing away and lighting it up in turquoise.
“I’ve never actually been here before,” Harry murmured as he watched the fish swimming by. “It’s amazing.”
“You’ve never been?” Draco asked in bewilderment. “My father used to take me all the time. He-” he trailed off, not really wanting to talk about his father just yet. Draco knew he’d have to eventually so that Harry at least had some idea what was going on before he came to his own wild conclusions, but he didn’t want that talk to be here. “Have you always lived in London?”
“I lived in Surrey with my aunt and uncle when I was a kid, but they-” Harry finished his sentence with a shrug, and Draco was apparently not the only one with family issues. “Once I found someone who would have taken me I was too old to really care. I kind of regret that now.”
“Wait until you see the tunnel,” Draco said, gesturing for Harry to follow him. “It’s amazing; it’s like walking through the sea.”
Watching Harry in the aquarium, Draco found his thoughts about his father drifting away a bit. Draco had always recognised that Harry was attractive, but in the blue light, he looked absolutely stunning. Harry may have been outgoing and lively, but the way he carried himself was soft and gentle. He was only about an inch shorter than Draco, and around the same body shape and size, but somehow Harry seemed small despite that—at least until he spoke.
But then again, now, away from the cameras and the fans—Harry had a gentle way about him; an understanding soul.
God, the aquarium always made Draco sappy.
The aquarium finished off in a gift shop, and Harry insisted on buying them each matching key rings of a little green turtle. Not quite ready to go home, Draco offered to buy them both lunch to thank Harry for meeting him on such short notice, and they ended up in St James’s Park to eat their sandwiches.
It was cold but sunny, and they sat close together on a bench as they watched the world go by.
“Have you ever heard any of my piano songs?” Draco asked, waiting as Harry looked at him contemplatively.
“All of them,” Harry admitted. “I always thought you were really talented at it. You’ve not uploaded any for a while, though.”
There—there was the opening that Draco had been digging for.
“My father taught me how to play. I had a tutor, of course, but my father was the real driving force behind it. He had been a master himself, and only gave it up as a profession when he met my mother at a ballet; she was a prima ballerina in those days.”
Harry nodded to show he was listening and moved his leg gently against Draco’s.
“Much more recently, my father got into debt troubles,” Draco said quietly, admitting truths that he’d never spoken to anyone out loud except for Pansy. “There’s this gang leader you’ve probably heard of if you follow the news; he’s called Voldemort. He promised to help my father out and wouldn’t expect repayment as long as my father worked for him, and as my father was desperate he agreed. Naturally he got caught after four years of working as a criminal, and Voldemort ditches his workers as soon as they get in trouble with the law. Six months ago my father was sentenced to twenty years in prison, and I haven’t been able to play the piano since. I just can’t find any motivation to play anymore.”
Harry stayed silent for a moment, and Draco appreciated the silence. His father’s imprisonment was one of the biggest changes that Draco’s life had ever experienced, and it was still hard to get used to. One day Draco was living in luxury with two parents, and suddenly he only had one.
“That must be hard for you,” Harry said finally, fingers turning the leather strap bracelet on his wrist around and around again. “My godfather was in prison, so I know what it’s like, in a way. I know it’s different situations, but you know, I get what you’re going through.”
“I don’t want pity or anything,” Draco said quickly, trying to mask his surprise that Harry had been in a similar situation. “Most days I can get through alright, but other days I just can’t stop thinking about him. Is that normal?”
Harry nodded, the lines of his lips tight. “Unfortunately. My parents died when I was one—it was a car crash—and I still miss them even though I never really knew them. I lived with my aunt and uncle as a kid and they refused to talk about my parents, but when Sirius—my godfather—was released from prison he got custody and actually treated me nicely and told me all about my mum and dad.”
“What was he in prison for?” Draco asked curiously.
“Similar gang related charges,” Harry shrugged. “Only Sirius was innocent. His cousin and his friend were both involved with the gang, and the cousin got the friend to frame Sirius because he was outspoken about her unlawful activities. Luckily everyone in the prison thought Sirius was a hardcore gangbanger so they left him alone; the one perk of being framed, I guess.”
It was a weak attempt at humour, but Draco appreciated it. He was tired of people constantly expected Draco to shatter if they spoke about prisons around him, so it was nice that Harry didn’t baby him. Still, Draco had had enough of that talk now.
“Do you cycle at all?” Draco asked, ready to change the subject. “Fancy hiring a bike and racing round the park? I know you’ll lose, but you might want to help me feel better that way.”
“Oh, you’re on,” Harry laughed.
***
“Hey guys, it’s Harry,” Harry said, grinning at the camera. “I have a very exciting video for you today. As you’ll probably see by the title, I’m going to be doing a Camden Market try-on for you.”
Camden Market was a market near Harry’s home which was famous for its gothic and alternative clothes and merchandise. Harry had pretty much bought all of his clothes from there since he was a teenager after his godfather introduced him to it. Sirius’s interests had been more punk, and though Harry preferred post-punk and goth, he appreciated his roots—which was why he had a song by The Clash playing in the background.
“I went out and picked all of these clothes myself, but I’m not going to be modelling them—that privilege lies with Draco.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a privilege,” Draco muttered as he came into view of the camera.
For just over a month now, Draco and Harry had been doing weekly collab videos together. The fans seemed to love it for one thing—Harry had got lots of new subscribers who had come from Draco’s channel, and Draco had got the same response from Harry’s fans.
Harry wasn’t doing it for views or subscribers, though; he genuinely liked spending time with Draco. He was witty and intelligent, and even though he was a bit of a snob Harry just liked to tease him about it. Plus Draco was easy on the eyes, all sleek and stylish and sharp features.
Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to ask Draco out. Even though their fans kept commenting saying what a cute couple they’d make, Harry couldn’t tell if Draco liked him that way. Harry had always been a bit awkward when it came to dating, and he didn’t fancy embarrassing himself in front of Draco if Draco wasn’t interested in Harry that way.
“What happened,” Harry explained for the viewers. “Was that we did a gameplay video of Mario Kart together—I’ll put the link below if you haven’t seen it—but basically I kicked Draco’s backside and this was my prize.”
“To dress me like a dork,” Draco expanded.
“You already dress like a dork,” Harry retorted quickly. “You’re going to look cool for probably the first time in your life.” He turned back to the camera and fixed it with a smile. “So I have four bags here with a different outfit in each; I’ve tried to represent four of the major styles you’ll see. So if you take this bag, Draco, and go and get changed.”
Draco reluctantly took the bag off Harry and disappeared into the bathroom to change.
“This first one is more my kind of style,” Harry told the camera. “Lots of black and metals.”
Draco came out of the bathroom with a huff, and Harry cracked a grin as Draco stepped back into view of the camera, clad in black skinny jeans, a studded metal belt, a t-shirt with a Jack Skellington face on the front, and a black polyester scarf with a white skull motif.
“I actually look like a sixteen-year-old,” Draco whined, plucking at his scarf.
“You look like me,” Harry corrected.
“Same thing,” Draco shrugged, giving him a wicked grin. “Viewers, comment below if you think Harry actually looks twenty-one.”
“Oh, I know which outfit I’m giving you to try on next,” Harry said with a grin, peering through the remaining bags. “There you go.”
“This is what most people would call a modern hippie,” Harry stated as Draco disappeared again. “Personally, I think the style is pretty cool, but as you probably know by now Draco is basically the opposite of everything that hippies stand for.”
“I have reached new heights of ridiculousness,” Draco whined as he came back out, this time wearing cream harem trousers and a multicoloured patchwork hooded top made from a thin material. “Is this supposed to make me feel closer to nature? Why are these even clothes? The trousers are comfortable, but this top? No, I look awful. Give me the next bag.”
Harry laughed, covering his mouth with his hand and shaking his head. “There you have a wildly brutal review from Draco. Who needs tact, apparently?”
Draco leaned in close to the camera. “If you wear these clothes on a regular basis and you’re offended by my comments...get over it.”
Harry opened his mouth in mock shock, giving Draco another bag of clothes to try on.
“I think I’m going to edit out what you just said,” Harry called to Draco through the closed door. “Insult people on your own channel.”
“I already do,” Draco called back.
Harry rolled his eyes affectionately. “This third outfit is inspired by my godfather who is really into punk culture.”
Draco stepped out wearing tartan trousers with silver chains dangling from the pockets, a white vest covered in patches for old punk bands, and a leather jacket with studs on the collar.
“I’ll admit,” Draco said slowly, twirling for the camera. “I feel pretty badass wearing this.”
“You look badass,” Harry agreed. “Like this video for more badass Draco; maybe next time we’ll get Pansy to give Draco a mohawk.”
Draco’s hands flew to his hair defensively. “My hair is strictly off limits.”
Harry raised a brow for the camera and gave the last bag to Draco without looking at him.
“This is my favourite bag, I reckon,” Harry said while Draco changed. “This is proper goth fashion at its finest; I always think goths and vampires go well together, and if I hadn’t seen Draco in the daytime I’d be convinced he was a vampire. Rich, handsome aristocrat doing an unexpected job like YouTubing? It can only be a bored vampire.”
“What are you on about vampires for?” Draco questioned as he came out, and when Harry turned to look at him he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Draco was in tight-fitting leather trousers which were tucked into New Rock boots—Harry’s own because he couldn’t afford to buy Draco his own pair, unfortunately—and had a plain black t-shirt underneath a mid-length black trench coat. The dark colours contrasted beautifully with Draco’s icy white-blond hair and grey eyes, and perfectly complimented his slim form.
“I think this is the most likely outfit I’d wear in public,” Draco mused, oblivious to Harry’s staring. “I mean, I won’t, but if I had to dress alternative I’d go for something like this.”
Draco glanced at Harry and their eyes met for a moment before they both turned to the camera with matching smirks.
“So that’s it for this video,” Harry said, clasping his hands together. “I will be doing a Camden Market haul video at some point this week so keep your eyes open for that. Be sure to like, comment, and subscribe, and I will see you next time.”
***
Draco had always prided himself on having a smart and stylish appearance. He kept up with the latest trends, ensured that his clothes were cleaned and ironed every night, and even made sure that his accessories matched his style.
Which was probably why Pansy looked so bewildered when she saw the black polyester scarf with a white skull design tied around his neck.
“That’s...interesting,” Pansy commented as she slid into the booth of the coffee shop, sitting opposite Draco. “What possessed you to wear such a thing?”
“You don’t like it?” Draco said, holding the end of the scarf up briefly. “I don’t think I do, either. Not on me, at least.”
“Oh, I see,” Pansy said with a knowing smirk. “This is to do with that emo boyfriend of yours, isn’t it?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Draco retorted sharply, but he could feel the blood rising to his cheeks. “But he bought me this scarf as part of a try-on video and he said he thought I could pull it off in my everyday outfits. I think even he knows this is as wild as I’m willing to go in public.”
“You can pull it off,” Pansy assured him. “But that doesn’t make you look any less like you’re having a very early mid-life crisis. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Harry recently, haven’t you? I hear you even went to the aquarium with him on a date; that’s dreadfully cute, Draco, but not really your style.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Draco hissed. “And even if it was, I could be cute if I wanted to—I just prefer not to. And besides, how did you even find out about that?”
It was Pansy’s turn to blush. “Well, I may have been keeping in touch with Ron; you know, Harry’s friend? He’s, ah, taking me out to dinner tomorrow night, actually.”
Draco was rather impressed that he managed not to grimace, mainly out of respect for Pansy. Just being he wasn’t into red hair and freckles didn’t mean that Pansy couldn’t be.
“So if I’m being honest with you,” Pansy pressed on. “Why won’t you be honest with me? If you want to date Harry I really don’t mind.”
“I’m literally not dating him, though,” Draco muttered darkly. “I mean, I want to, but I don’t think he’s interested in me that way.”
“Have you ever considered, I don’t know, actually straight-up asking him on a date?” Pansy exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “You don’t need to make everything so difficult for yourself, Draco.”
“And face being rejected?” Draco scoffed. “I’m not going to make a fool of myself, Pansy.”
“Whatever,” Pansy shrugged. “If you want to be stubborn you’re only going to make things hard for you. Ron didn’t know if I liked him, but he asked me to dinner and bought me flowers anyway.”
“If it’s that simple, why hasn’t Harry asked me out yet, then?” Draco pointed out. “I’ll be fine, Pansy. I’d rather wait it out for a clear sign and be silently crushed, rather than rushing into it and facing public rejection. Patience is a virtue, don’t they say?”
“Who bothers with virtue?” Pansy scoffed. “If you’re so patient, you can wait in the queue to give our orders.”
She jerked her head to the queue where a dozen people were waiting while two rather frazzled looking teenagers rushed to get the different orders ready.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere else?” Draco asked.
“Why bother?” Pansy teased. “Patience is a virtue, after all.”
***
Harry rubbed his eyes blearily as he stepped out of the hospital doors. Sirius had an arm slung around Harry’s shoulder as he guided him to the taxi, both of them lost in an exhausted fog.
Harry threw his head back as he slid into the back of the taxi, and lazily reached for his phone from his pocket. Ten messages and five missed calls—all from Draco.
Harry groaned as he remembered he had completely forgotten to text Draco to cancel on him. They had supposed to have been filming another collab video that night, but then Remus had been rushed into hospital and Harry had been completely out of it and hadn’t given a second thought to anything but Remus.
All of Harry’s other friends knew that if Harry suddenly disappeared from the cyber world then it was probably because he was in hospital with Remus, but Draco didn’t know about him.
Draco’s texts had got progressively angrier, and even though Harry knew he had a valid excuse, he still felt guilty.
Once they were back at Sirius’s house, Harry gave Draco a ring. It was only eight in the evening, but Harry half-expected Draco not to answer.
“You’re alive, then?” Draco snapped, and his voice was a relief for Harry to hear.
“I’m sorry, Harry murmured quietly. “I’ve been at the hospital.”
Even over the phone, Harry felt Draco’s demeanour change instantly.
“Are you alright?” he asked urgently. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“It’s not me,” Harry reassured Draco. “My uncle...well he’s not really my uncle but he’s my godfather’s partner...basically he has HIV, and yeah, he’s not too well at the minute. He’s always in and out of hospital so you’d think I’d be used to it but...I just keep hoping this won’t be the last time.”
Even though Draco was silent, just the sound of his breaths down the phone were oddly comforting.
“Are you at home?” Draco asked finally.
“No, I’m at my godfather’s,” Harry answered.
“Text me his address and I’ll come over,” Draco said, and Harry could hear shuffling as no doubt Draco started to get ready.
“You don’t need to come,” Harry murmured, although just the idea that Draco was ready to drop everything to see Harry left him with a warm feeling in his stomach.
“Do you want me to?” Draco questioned, the sounds of movement stopping as he waited for Harry’s answer.
Harry hesitated for a moment before saying, “yes, but-”
“Then I’m coming,” Draco cut in. “Text me where you are and I’ll be there soon.”
With that said, Draco hung up, and Harry had no choice but to text him the address. Truthfully, he reckoned he could do with Draco’s company. Sirius was normally too distressed himself to be too much help to Harry, and Harry didn’t like to be left alone with his own thoughts at times like this.
Draco arrived quickly—he must have literally grabbed a taxi as soon as he’d left his own house. When Harry opened the door to him, they stared at each other for just a moment before Harry pulled Draco into a tight hug.
“Thank you for coming,” Harry murmured into Draco’s jacket, taking steady breaths against the warm material. Draco hesitated for a split-second before returning the hug, his hair soft and comforting against Harry’s face.
Harry led Draco upstairs and to his room, where Robert Smith’s soft voice filled the room as The Cure played on full blast, blocking the silence with the poetic lyrics and dark music.
“Sirius doesn’t mind the volume,” Harry said, turning it down just enough that he and Draco could hear one another speak. “The Cure is my favourite band; this song—A Forest—is my favourite song, in fact. I know it’s cliche, but music honestly makes me feel better. You can lose yourself in music, you know.”
Draco nodded. “That’s how I used to feel when I played piano. It was like nothing else mattered once I was there in that song.”
Harry closed his eyes and pressed his palms against them. It had been a long day and he was worn out.
“Don’t let me keep you up,” Draco said, placing a hand gently on Harry’s arm.
“But you just got here,” Harry protested, opening his eyes again.
“So don’t send me home,” Draco shrugged. “I’ll sleep in here with you; that bed looks divine.”
“I don’t think anyone’s ever tried to get me in bed before just so they could use the mattress,” Harry said, managing a weak smile. “I’m too tired to argue so you win. I’ll go to bed and you can spend the night. The room next to mine is free and has an equally nice bed, or you can share with me; I’m not bothered.”
“I’ll stay here,” Draco decided. “But I’m going to step outside to ring my mother to let her know.”
Harry took the opportunity to put on some pyjamas, leaving a spare pair out for Draco, before clambering into bed and the soft, welcoming covers. Draco soon returned, and after some shuffling about Draco slid into the bed beside Harry.
Draco kept his distance from Harry, which was easy enough given the size of the bed, but just having him there made Harry feel a lot more comfortable and relaxed.
If Harry thought he felt a hand grab his gently just as he was drifting into sleep, he was sure he must have dreamt it.
***
With news that Harry’s ‘uncle’ was home and relatively healthy, Harry had been back to more or less his usual self.
Draco found it rather odd; he had long had a reputation for only caring about himself, with Pansy his only real friend, but Draco had come to realise that he liked seeing Harry happy. And more importantly, Draco wanted to make Harry happy. Sure, he liked to tease Harry and wind him up, but Harry gave as good as he got.
Draco felt like his life had changed so much since he had met Harry. Harry had made Draco smile, made him laugh, and made him care again.
And more importantly, Harry had given Draco inspiration to sit at his piano and play once more.
Draco had uploaded the video of his cover of A Forest, originally by The Cure, only a few hours ago, and had already had hundreds of comments from fans who were thrilled to see Draco play piano again. He had forgotten the exhilaration of playing songs and receiving praise; Draco hadn’t realised until now how much he had missed that feeling.
Of course, there were many comments that mentioned how the song was Harry’s favourite. Draco knew that, which was why he had chosen to play it. Draco put his heart into his music, and as Harry had inspired him to play, it came through in the music.
A knock sounded at the front door, and Draco answered it expecting to see Pansy or a delivery man of some kind.
What Draco didn’t expect was to see Harry on his doorstep, especially a Harry who threw his arms around Draco as soon as he saw him and kissed him firmly on the lips.
Draco froze for just a moment before melting into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Harry’s hips and pulling him closer as he kissed Harry back.
When they finally parted they were panting, and Draco rested his forehead against Harry’s.
“I saw your video,” Harry murmured, his gaze focused on Draco’s lips. “You played piano for the first time in six months and you played a song for me.”
Draco was going to retort with a wry comment about Harry’s cockiness, but then Harry swallowed deeply and Draco realised just how blown Harry’s pupils were. This was important for Harry, Draco realised, and was far more than Harry thanking Draco for playing his favourite song.
“You’ve made me happy,” Draco said quietly, shutting his eyes for a moment. “When my father went I had no reason to be happy, but you gave me one.”
“Do you think we could be happy together?” Harry asked, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth.
Draco eyed the dark red mark hungrily and leant in to kiss that tender spot again, drawing Harry into another soft kiss.
“We can try,” Draco said with a smile. “Come inside with me?”
Draco offered his hand, and Harry took it.
***
In the nine months that Harry and Draco had been dating, Harry had never been happier. Of course, it wasn’t perfect; they had a tendency to argue over really small things that didn’t actually matter, but they never stayed mad at each other for long. They both had flaws and issues in their lives, but they understood each other and knew how to make the other one feel better—or when to give them their space.
They had tried to keep their relationship quiet from YouTube at first but eventually word got out. Their fans had been very excited to hear the news, for the most part, and both Harry and Draco had been sent request after request for them to do the boyfriend tag.
“Guess what we’re finally giving in to do,” Harry said to the camera, giving it a wide grin.
“The one and only Boyfriend Tag,” Draco finished, rolling his eyes. “So many of you have been asking us to do this and Harry finally talked me into it.”
“If you don’t know what the Boyfriend Tag is, it’s basically some questions about our relationship that we are going to answer for you,” Harry explained, holding up his phone. “I have the questions on here, so sorry if I keep looking down. You ready to start? Where did we meet?”
Draco let out a groaning laugh. “We are terribly cliche, I’m afraid, and we met at a YouTube convention.”
“We had tables next to one another,” Harry expanded. “It was love at first sight.”
Draco snorted while Harry shook his head.
“No, we were attracted to each other but we’re both quite useless when it comes to dating,” Draco said. “We’re alright at it now, of course, but only with each other.”
Harry grinned. “Next question—where was our first date?”
Draco didn’t even need to think about the question. “We went to a really fancy French restaurant because I have first date standards, but this old man started yelling at us for being gay so we caused a bit of a scene arguing with him before we left.”
“The only place we could find open and with spare tables was this run down little kebab shop, and we just ended up sitting in there chatting until about two in the morning,” Harry recalled fondly. “Draco’s first date standards are now even higher. Oh, this is a fun question; what was your first impression of me?”
Draco let out a bark of laughter. “I thought you were childish and a bit irritating but cute.”
“I also found you irritating,” Harry grinned. “I just thought you were a massive snob.”
“So both our first impressions were correct,” Draco said dryly, and Harry winked as he aimed a finger gun at the camera.
“Ha! This is a good one. Do I have any weird obsessions, and if I do what are they?” Harry fixed Draco with an amused smile.
Draco gestured at Harry’s entire body. “Goth bands from the 80s, as I’m sure most of you lovely viewers already know about Harry. I, on the other hand, have no weird obsessions.”
“Oh yeah?” Harry argued. “What about watching all those David Attenborough documentaries?”
“Liking David Attenborough is not weird!” Draco protested.
“Hmm, what was the first thing you noticed about me?”
Draco considered it for a moment. “The bandana, to be honest. I thought you looked like a massive dork in it.”
“Great,” Harry said sarcastically, giving the camera a thumbs up. “I think I just noticed how white your hair was. I’ve never actually seen hair that colour before; at least somebody who’s naturally that colour. Who wears the pants in the relationship? I’m pretty sure we both do. Draco likes to think it’s him, but we share.”
“He says that, but it really is me,” Draco muttered, holding his hand against his mouth to hide the side facing Harry. “I just don’t want to upset him.”
Harry shook his head in amusement. “What is a talent of mine? Yours is easy; it’s the piano playing.”
“I’m talented at other things too,” Draco said, waggling his eyebrows. “Hmm, you’re good at empathising with people. That’s a talent; I can’t do it.”
“Is it a talent?” Harry queried, shrugging at the camera. “It’ll do because I’m not good at anything else. Er, what kind of cake would you bake for me on my birthday?”
“Trick question!” Draco declared, wagging his finger. “You would much rather have a treacle tart with a candle sticking out of it.”
“He knows me well,” Harry told the camera with a grin. “Last question for now; what can I spend hours doing?”
Harry shoved Draco’s shoulder lightly when Draco began to waggle his eyebrows suggestively again.
“I’m going to say your hair,” Harry decided for Draco. “You literally do spend hours on it.”
“One hour, maybe,” Draco argued. “Sleeping is what you do. And not just normal night sleep either, but Harry loves lie-ins and naps. He’s a fiend for sleep.”
“And there is our boyfriend tag—part one,” Harry finished. “We will be doing the second part next week over on Draco’s channel, so go and subscribe to him now if you aren’t already so that you don’t miss it; the link will be down in the description box.”
The camera shut off, and Draco patted Harry’s knee as Harry leant across to kiss him.
“So fancy spending a few hours in bed not sleeping?” Draco asked teasingly.
Harry grinned. “Race you there.”