where harry is a horny b*tch and draco just wants to study
Harry had gone to visit Hagrid, but he hadn’t realized just how upset the man was until he got there. Buckbeak was going to be executed.
Apparently, some student from another class had been injured, and now the Ministry had decided the hippogriff was too dangerous to live. It was *unfair.* It made Harry’s blood boil. But no matter how much he, Ron, or Hermione argued, there was nothing they could do—at least, not yet.
Unfortunately, they didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, because exam season had arrived.
Draco and Hermione had gone *full exam mode,* practically glued to their textbooks. Since they had both taken the most subjects, their schedules were packed, their notes were endless, and *most importantly*—it severely limited the amount of time Harry could spend *snogging* Draco.
And Harry was *not* happy about that.
“Come *onnn,* you’ll do fine,” he whined, leaning over Draco’s shoulder as the blond furiously scribbled down notes.
Draco ignored him.
Harry huffed. “Dracoooo, take a break.”
No response.
Harry narrowed his eyes. *Fine.* If Draco wasn’t going to listen, he’d have to take matters into his own hands.
Without warning, he grabbed Draco and *lifted* him right out of his chair, settling him onto his lap with ease.
“Potter—!” Draco squawked, scandalized, his quill flying from his hand.
Harry just grinned, pressing a kiss to the side of Draco’s neck.
Draco groaned and weakly shoved him away. “I’m *trying* to study.”
Harry’s grin widened. Finally, some *acknowledgment.*
“Well, *I’m* trying to kiss my boyfriend,” he said smugly.
Draco scowled at him, attempting to glare, but the faint flush on his cheeks betrayed him. "You are *insufferable*, Potter," he muttered, turning back to his book as if Harry hadn’t just manhandled him onto his lap.
Harry smirked, resting his chin on Draco’s shoulder. "You love it."
Draco sniffed. "That’s debatable."
"You *definitely* love it."
"I—Potter, *stop distracting me!*" Draco shoved at him half-heartedly, but Harry wasn’t going anywhere. He wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist, trapping him in place.
"Come on, *one* break."
Draco huffed. "I *am* taking a break. I’m just spending it being *harassed* by my clingy boyfriend."
Harry grinned. "Clingy?"
Draco shot him a look.
"Affectionate," Harry corrected, pressing a kiss to Draco’s temple.
"You’re ridiculous," Draco mumbled, but he was no longer fighting Harry off. Instead, he leaned into him ever so slightly, his fingers idly tapping against the textbook in front of them.
Harry took that as a win.
The peaceful moment was interrupted by an exaggerated gagging noise from across the room.
"Honestly, get a room," Ron groaned, dramatically covering his eyes.
Blaise snorted. "They *are* in a room."
"Preferably one I don’t have to be in," Ron muttered.
Pansy smirked at Draco. "I don’t know why you even pretend to study, darling. You *always* ace your exams. You could be off snogging Potter guilt-free."
Draco scoffed, but Harry saw the flicker of consideration in his eyes.
"See?" Harry said, tightening his hold around Draco. "Even your friends think you should take a break."
Draco rolled his eyes but finally *relaxed* against Harry. "Fine. *Five* minutes. And *then* I’m finishing my revision."
Harry smirked. "Five minutes? That’s plenty of time."
Draco shoved him, but there was laughter in his eyes.
---
Exams had officially begun, and Hogwarts was in chaos.
The once-lively corridors were now filled with students muttering spells under their breath, frantically flipping through notes, or looking like they were on the verge of a breakdown. Even the Slytherins—who usually carried themselves with an air of superiority—seemed frazzled.
Draco and Hermione were practically *possessed* by the spirit of academic excellence. Harry was convinced they’d both started speaking another language, one made entirely of complicated spell theories and obscure magical history facts. It was *terrifying.*
Ron was stressed but mostly in a *I’ll-figure-it-out-somehow* way. Meanwhile, Pansy and Blaise had taken to placing bets on who would cry first—Theo or Neville. (*So far, it was even.*)
The written exams were brutal. Harry’s hand cramped halfway through the History of Magic essay, and he barely scraped by in Potions. He suspected Snape took personal joy in making his test harder. (*Draco, of course, finished his with a flourish and a smirk, much to Harry’s annoyance.*)
Then came the practical exams.
Harry did well in Charms, though Flitwick nearly *squeaked* in excitement when he performed the Summoning Charm perfectly. In Transfiguration, McGonagall gave him an approving nod when he turned his hedgehog into a pincushion (*though it still had a few quills sticking out*). Defense Against the Dark Arts was a breeze—Remus actually *smiled* at him when he successfully cast a Shield Charm.
Draco, of course, *excelled* in everything. *Show-off.*
By the end of the week, everyone was *exhausted.* The library was a disaster, students were sleeping in weird places (*Seamus had dozed off in the Great Hall mid-meal*), and Ron swore his brain had started melting.
But there was only one more test left.
And then—finally—summer.