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For the first time in his life, things were actually going great for Harry. The war was over, and he and his friends could finally have one last year at Hogwarts with no looming threat over them.
Of course, the ghosts of those he had lost still hung in the shadows at night. But during the day, he spent his time laughing with old and new friends. Only a handful of students had returned for an eighth year; through a collection of trauma dumping and firewhisky, they had all gained a sort of camaraderie no one else could share. Classes were still in session and Harry still had to deal with grades, but they were mostly for show at this point. The eighth year was simply a way for the children affected most by the war to have one year of a break from the real world.
At the moment, it was November and Harry was lying across the couch in the shared eighth-year common room, lazily laughing at Ron as he demolished Dean in another round of chess. Harry had given up long ago and accepted defeat. He chuckled when Ron yelled, "Checkmate!"
He leaned his head further to the side, letting gravity take him as he fell sideways on the couch. The top of his head brushed against someone's thigh. He looked up, and his heart stuttered as he saw platinum blonde hair above him.
He hadn't realized Malfoy had come down, and now Harry’s head was an inch away from being in his lap. Malfoy’s eyes flickered down to him. Instead of the anger or annoyance Harry was used to seeing on the blonde's face, he just saw light amusement. Soon, Malfoy's eyes flicked back to the book in his hand.
Something new that was happening was the relationship development, particularly between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. When the year started, they were put into the same room, and at first, it was pure awkwardness. You could cut the air with a knife, it was so thick. Harry couldn't place what he wanted the relationship he had with Draco to be. All he knew of Malfoy was anger and hatred. But now, staring at Malfoy in their shared room, hatred was the furthest emotion he felt.
One day, Harry had come into their room and saw Malfoy sitting on the edge of his bed looking at a letter. He didn't look too happy reading it; when his eyes flickered up to Harry, Harry could see the sadness etched into them.
Harry didn't like that, so he did something so stupid he knew it would make Malfoy laugh. He walked forward and forced his legs out from under himself, falling face-first onto the ground. He groaned as his nose was crushed by the wooden planks of the floor, but he could hear laughter bubbling up from Malfoy's throat. Harry's face was still hidden against the ground, so he let a smile creep over his face.
He tried to wipe the grin off his face when he pushed himself up, but Malfoy had gotten up and offered a hand to Harry. His face was no longer downturned and sorrowful, but full of boyish laughter. “You big oaf, what did you fall over? Air?” he laughed, still offering his hand. All Harry could do was take it, unless he wanted to make another fool of himself.
After that, their relationship got better. They spoke to each other in small, polite sentences, and Harry had a goal to make the stoic blonde laugh. Sometimes the tension would come back in quiet moments or when the past was brought up, but Harry found the awkward air would soon be disrupted whenever he made a fool out of himself and Malfoy would laugh his pretty ass off.
“What are you reading?” Harry finally asked, feeling his heart flutter when grey eyes flickered to him for a second. Harry squinted his eyes to try and read the cover but found it was gibberish.
“Something you’ve never heard of,” Malfoy simply said, elegantly turning the page.
Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Why? How do you know that? Is it too advanced for my simple mind? Or wait, let me guess—it’s a super old book only purebloods read?” he asked.
But Malfoy just snickered. “Because it’s French, you dunce.”
That’s when Harry turned his head and realized the gibberish on the front cover was actually a different language.
Harry’s face flushed in embarrassment, but his stomach flipped when he heard Malfoy laugh, and everything seemed to fit into place.
After Malfoy's little giggling fit, he went back to reading. The silence lay over them like a blanket. To anyone else, it may have seemed like a comfortable silence, but Harry felt restless, his fingers twitching. He bit his lip and kept looking up at the sharp features above him.
“So… what is it about?” he asked. He could see Malfoy’s mouth twitch, but Malfoy stayed strong. However, Harry was a master at being an idiot.
“It’s about this wealthy guy. He has liked this girl for a long time, but she’s dating someone else,” Harry hummed, watching Draco's pink lips move as he spoke.
“So what? He sweeps her off her feet and steals her away?” Harry asked, smirking up at him.
Draco shook his head. “So far, he's making an absolute fool of himself.” His eyes then flickered to Harry. “Like someone else I know,” he laughed.
—---
Harry laughed into his potatoes as Ron made another stupid joke that had Hermione red-faced with laughter. Harry couldn't think of a time when they all could laugh like this before. He felt all warm inside like… a freshly baked cookie. Harry blinked at his own thought. I should tell Draco that; it will make him laugh.
He cut his chicken and shoved it into his mouth when he felt someone sit next to him. He looked over and smiled. “Hey, Ginny,” he greeted.
Ginny was another relationship that was developing this year. They hadn't gotten back together after the war, but something was definitely different, and not just "family," in the air around them.
Harry had to admit she was quite pretty today. Her fiery red hair was up in a tight ponytail and her bright eyes shone as she looked at him. “Guess what happened during practice this morning? Well, this new guy joined, and he's a real piece of work. He's fast and all, but he has no common sceans, I swear—”
Harry smiled as he listened to her ramble. He felt so warm around her, like nothing could go wrong. He was watching the strands of red hair fall down her shoulder when something caught the corner of his eye. His eyes were drawn to someone who was walking into the Great Hall. He felt his heart race as he saw Malfoy walk in; his hair was getting longer.
“Can you believe that?”
His eyes snapped back to Ginny’s bright face. “Honestly, that’s crazy. I’m surprised he was able to get the Snitch with how stupid he is.”
—---
Harry was drying his hair on his bed when Malfoy came back into their shared room. “Hey, Malfoy,” Harry muttered as he watched Malfoy take off his coat and scarf.
“Hello, Potter,” he muttered, going over to the mirror to fix his perfect hair.
“What were you up to?” Harry asked, fidgeting with the towel in his lap.
Malfoy just shrugged. “I was on my way to Hogsmeade with Pansy, but she had an emergency with her hair. I spent all day making a hair-growth potion, and I had to go into the Forbidden Forest to get this flower.” He let out a long sigh. “And I never did go to Hogsmeade.”
That made Harry perk up. “No? Really? Well, tomorrow the others and I are heading to Hogsmeade. Wanna come?”
He knew it was stupid to ask Malfoy to come, literally into the lion's den for a pub night, but his mouth spoke before his brain. Malfoy turned slowly to look at Harry with a raised eyebrow. “You're inviting me to hang out… with a bunch of Gryffindors?”
“Well… um, some of the other Weasleys are coming, too.”
“So more Gryffindors and a family that I have bullied for years?”
“…Yes,” Harry said, feeling himself sweat.
Malfoy’s eyes stared at him for a second before asking, “Will Luna be there?”
“Yes?”
Malfoy then shrugged. “Sure. I've been meaning to hang out with her more often.”
Harry’s heart rate seemed to spike. "Really!" he asked, a little too loud.
Malfoy let out a small chuckle. "Yes, Potter. Don’t be so surprised; you invited me."
Harry frantically shook his head. "No—oh, no. I’m just really glad," he said, giving a shaky smile.
—-
Harry ran his hands through his hair as he looked at himself in the mirror at the leaky Calderon. He felt like he was on pins and needles.
“What’s up with you, mate? You look like you're ready to jump out of your skin,” Ron said, looking at Harry with a confused, raised eyebrow.
Harry jumped and whipped his head toward Ron. “Nothing, I’m just—um, nervous. I invited—”
“Ginny?” Ron asked, eyes questioning.
“Ginny? Um, no. I thought she was coming anyway. But no... I invited Malfoy.”
That somehow made Ron even more surprised. “Draco Malfoy? Why would you do that?” he asked.
Harry let out a huff. “Ron, Malfoy and I have been getting closer, and he’s not so bad anymore.”
Ron just shook his head and let out a breath. “Look, I’m not saying he’s so bad anymore—he can play a hell of a game of chess—but he’s... you’re bringing him to a pub night with people he barely knows. It’s not going to end well.”
Harry just shook his head. “I’ll be there if anyone wants to bother him, and I'll be able to stop him if he gets snippy at someone,” he said. He thought it was a great idea, but Ron just looked at him like he was an idiot.
“This is not going to end well,” Ron muttered, shaking his head.
Just a moment later, Ginny appeared at the end of the table. “Hey, Harry,” Ginny said, sliding up next to him. He could feel her warmth seep into the shoulder touching his.
“Hey,” he said, his mouth growing into an uncontrollable smile. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and Harry could see the little gleam of glitter over her eyelids and a shine on her lips.
“Are you wearing makeup?” he asked, eyes glued to her pink lips.
“Oh, yeah! I just thought I could add a little color to my look. I haven’t been able to hang out with you guys lately because of Quidditch, so I wanted to go all out,” she said, her face practically glowing.
“Yeah, we really haven’t hung out a lot lately.”
Ginny let out a long breath. “I know. Team practice has been so brutal. Now that the eighth years aren't playing, I’m having to completely revamp the team, and I’m telling you, they get worse and worse. Anthony was being a complete dunce and decided to wash down a bunch of sweets before drills and puked all over the field.” She let out a long sigh and rested her head on her hands.
Harry smiled and mimicked her pose, watching her eyes twinkle.
“And that’s not even comparing it to schoolwork. I swear, McGonagall has been on our asses with homework.”
Harry nodded, but then his eyes slid over to the door. That’s when he saw blonde. He shot up, eyes remaining on the pale figure draped in elegant black clothing and long blonde hair. He stuttered and quickly bid Ginny a goodbye.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, not taking his eyes off the tall blonde. He was afraid he would disappear if his eyes fell away for even a second.
“Hey, Dr—Malfoy! Hey!” Harry stuttered, almost running into the table in his way.
Draco looked over until his eyes landed on Harry, and he gave a small smile. “Hey, Potter.”
“You look—um, nice. Anyway, um, we’re sitting over there. We’re still waiting on a few more people,” Harry said, gesturing to the table slowly filling with people. His eyes accidentally caught Ginny’s; she was staring at them over her drink.
“Um, thanks for inviting me,” Draco said. He then stepped back a bit, and that was when Harry realized just how close he was standing to Malfoy.
Harry tried not to, but he practically forced Malfoy into the seat next to him.
“Hello, Malfoy,” Ginny said over Harry’s head.
Malfoy looked up and gave an awkward smile. “Hello, Weasley.”
She shook her head. “Call me Ginny, and I’ll call you Draco.”
Harry was about to laugh in her face. Malfoy didn’t like calling people by their first names; he preferred last names.
“Of course. Thank you, Ginny.”
Oh, well... Harry thought.
The evening was going… grate, Harry though as he watch Malfoy talk with people Harry would never image him having conversation with.
He connected with Herminio right away with academic noises he couldn’t keep up with. And Ron already liked him somewhat with his chess skills. And Ginny… seemed to really like him. He laughed at her jokes and she snickered at his dry comments.
He was happy, of course he was, but he felt a little sad that Malfoy wasn’t really talking to him much this evening. He was running his finger over his empty glass when he had a great idea. He noticed many glasses around the table had gone empty.
He shot up without thinking. “Hey, Malfoy, can you help me get a round of drinks from the bar?” he asked, stopping Malfoy in the middle of a sentence.
Malfoy turned to Harry with a raised eyebrow. “Sure, I guess.”
With elegance, Malfoy rose and followed Harry to the bar.
“You seem to be in your element,” Harry said as he leaned against the bar.
Malfoy just hummed and leaned on his arms. “I guess I’m just that charming,” he said with a cocky smirk that made Harry dizzy.
“Yeah. So, um, what do you want?” Harry asked. He was about to raise his hand to get the bartender's attention when the bell on the front door chimed. Harry’s eyes turned in surprise.
“Oh my god,” Harry gasped as someone walked through the door.
Charlie Weasley walked in with an air of confidence and swagger. His long ginger hair was swept back, and his tan skin was littered with scars that made him look even more handsome. His eyes immediately found Harry at the bar. He let out a large, bright smile and came over to hug Harry right away—a warm, tight hug.
“Hey, mate! It’s so good to see you,” he said.
“God, Charlie, it’s so good to see you! When was the last time? I don’t know... a year ago?” Harry gushed.
Charlie just laughed. “I know, sorry! The dragons had a bunch of babies, and some of them had dragon pox, which I thought went extinct years ago.” He laughed the his green eyes then slid over and fell on the person next to Harry. “And you are?” he asked, his bright, deadly smile turning almost charming.
“Draco Malfoy.”
Charlie extended his hand. “Draco. Like the dragon constellation. Cool. I’m Charlie Weasley.”
“Really? I couldn’t have guessed, with the bright red hair and freckles,” Malfoy said with a raised eyebrow.
“What can I say? I’m hard to miss,” Charlie said, keeping his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Malfoy’s eyes flickered down at Charlie's hand and then back up at his freckled face. “Nice to meet you, too,” Malfoy said, a bit too quiet and soft. He reached out and shook his hand.
For some odd reason, Harry wanted to rip their hands apart and drag Malfoy away.