Hogsmeade Weekend Getaway
Saturday, October 12th, 1996
“Okay, how about this one?”
“I don’t know about this, Harry…”
Harry, however, wasn’t listening, instead reaching over to grab his wand while making sure he kept his hand on Prongs, who would surely bark in protest if he stopped petting now. Ron now cast worried glances around them, even though they’d made sure Neville, Seamus, and Dean were downstairs before scouring the Half-Blood Prince’s book for some fun at the request of Harry, who greatly needed it after the memories he’d seen yesterday, and had stumbled upon quite the intriguing looking spell in class yesterday.
“Now I saw my dad use this on Snape -”
“I’d pay to see that,” Harry didn’t have the energy at nine o’clock in the morning to explain how that particular excursion into the Pensieve had been actually terribly awful and no he wouldn’t want to watch the great James Potter turn into a pre-fourth year style Malfoy. Instead he dropped the Half-Blood Prince’s book on his lap, Prongs yelping and hopping off unhappily, and flipped to the page with Levicorpus.
He (and Draco) had used spells made by the Half-Blood Prince before, to humor themselves and greatly annoy Hermione, but Hermione wasn’t here and Harry needed a break so, naturally, it seemed a perfect time to use another spell, even if that one had bad connotations in Harry’s mind. He’d get over it, probably, if he saw Ron dangling upside down and he was happy about it.
“Alright, ready?” Ron nodded, having taken to a standing position on the bed, arms spread out, eyes closed, wincing for impact. “Levicorpus!”
With a great yelp, Ron rose about a foot off the bed and was propelled backwards in the air so that he hung upside down, just as the teenage Snape had, on foot straight up in the air (the ankle Harry’s wand held onto) and the other banging against the canopy of his four-poster. Prongs started to bark wildly, jumping on his paws, but Harry and Ron were laughing within seconds and, pulling his wand back, Harry managed to drag Ron out from under the canopy and into the center of the room, where he yelled, “Hey, shake me!” and Harry obeyed, causing Ron to make bizarre fish-like sounds as he shook in the air before breaking off into laughs along with Harry.
“This is brilliant, Harry!” He laughed, swinging forwards and backwards.
Just then the door slammed open and a distinctly feminine voice gave a shriek as Prongs bounded for her, barking no doubt for Ron’s savior. Harry doubted he needed it though, as he was stretching to either attempt a somersault or touch his toes. Harry hoped it was the latter, as he doubted his ankle which was tied to the spell would obey.
“Harry!” Hermione gasped but Harry hardly acknowledged her presence, still laughing at Ron. “If this is another one of the Prince’s foul spells -”
“They’re not foul!” Ron crossed his arms, looking even more hilarious as he did it upside down. “They’re useful!”
“Right,” Hermione scowled at Harry, “Fix him!”
“But -”
“Harry if you don’t put my boyfriend down right -”
“Okay, okay!” They really needed to have a talk about how Hermione and Ron couldn’t use the boyfriend/girlfriend card for everything, but that would be a later discussion. For now, Harry exclaimed, “Liberacorpus!”
In an instant, Ron had fallen back onto the floorboards, and Hermione placed her hands on her hips, scowling down at him. “We’re never going to do that again, are we Ronald?”
“Honestly, ‘Mione, are you my mother or my girlfriend?” He said rhetorically, stumbling to his feet then stepping forwards, clearly expecting a morning kiss, but she shook her head, pressing two fingers against his lips. “You’ll have plenty of time for that in Hogsmeade, but right now I’m still mad at you.” He pouted, but knew not to protest as Hermione turned to scowl down at Harry, who was back to petting a much more happy Prongs in his lap, smiling innocently up at her.
“I have half a mind to steal your book and turn it in to McGonagall,” she said but Harry raised one eyebrow.
“You wouldn’t. Not after Third Year.” Her scowl deepened, but after a few seconds, she sighed heavily, clearly realizing this was a losing battle after what she’d done with his Firebolt in Third Year. Instead, she snapped, “Well hurry up and get dressed, at least, I’d like to make it to Hogsmeade before lunch.”
Not wanting to get Hermione in any worse mood than she already was, Harry and Ron changed into their Weasley sweaters and jeans, clipping cloaks over their Muggle attire and tucking scarves and gloves into their bags before heading out. Hermione stood waiting for them at the Portrait hole, tapping her foot and dressed in a nicer sweater and skirt with her own traveling cloak, and once they’d gotten down to the Great Hall, they saw Draco already seated at the Gryffindor table, poking at his breakfast. He too was dressed for a Hogsmeade excursion.
Harry had a feeling his thoughtful expression when he thought he was alone had a lot to do with him thinking up ways to get Slughorn’s memory, but he hadn’t told Ron and Hermione what they’d seen last night yet, and he didn’t plan on it all weekend; they were going to have a fun weekend, for once, before throwing themselves back into Deathly Hallows and whatever ‘Horcruxes’ were.
Which is why when they sat down in their usual spots Harry immediately announced, “No mysteries!”
“What?” Ron, Hermione, and Draco all blurted in unison, but Harry raised a finger. “You heard me; we are going to have two very nice, very dull days in Hogsmeade, and no ones going to mention the Deathly Hallows, or Dumbledore, or the Pensieve, or Gregorovitch, or Voldemort, or Malfoy’s family, or who the Half-Blood Prince is, or -”
“Okay we get it, Harry!” Ron exclaimed, raising his hands but smiling in spite of everything, probably because Harry’s insistence was admittedly comical. “No mysteries, just normal teenage weekends, right?” He nudged Hermione's shoulder and she sighed, leaning her head against him. “Right…”
“Thank Merlin!” They all nearly jumped out of their skins but sighed when seeing it was just Pansy, popping up out of nowhere behind Harry and Draco, hands spread wide, grinning down at them. “Finally decided to lay off getting yourselves into messes you don’t need to be in and joining in the fun, are you?”
“Just for the weekend, Pansy,” Hermione said, straightening. “Then it’s back to whispering in class.”
She must’ve known just how to get under Pansy’s skin as the girl immediately groaned and collapsed into a seat beside Draco, dropping her head on the table. “Why can’t you four just be normal…?”
“May I remind you you chose to go to the Department of Mysteries with us?”
She raised her head, glaring at Harry. “When will you ever live that down?” she asked, rhetorically, to which “Never” was the only response she should’ve ever expected to get.
“Pansy, do you want to come to Hogsmeade with us?” Draco asked kindly, then immediately had to ruin it by adding, “Seeing as how your date’s miles and miles away and you lost all your friends the same day you chose to go to the Department?”
She scowled, raised her chin and proudly said, “Actually I didn’t lose all my friend’s, Draco, and even if I did I got new ones too. That’s why I’ll be going shopping with Ginny and Luna.”
A few tense seconds passed, then Ron snorted, and Hermione giggled, while Harry and Draco grinned.
“What’s so funny?” Pansy demanded whilst Ron broke off into full blown laughter.
“You know you’ll be third-wheeling, right?” He asked, placing a hand on his chest, and Pansy looked genuinely confused.
“What?”
“It’s obvious Ginny and Luna like each other,” Hermione explained, “You’re not going on a date with Lee but you are third-wheeling on one.”
Pansy immediately turned scarlet, but her eyes were widening with the realization that they were right, too, and Ginny and Luna were hopelessly crushing on each other.
“Well - you all - er - you - ugh!” Surrendering, she threw up her hands in frustration and stormed off, whipping Draco across the cheek with her braid, but he didn’t seem to mind, joining in with his other friends in laughing as she stomped away from them.
After they had all had their fair share of breakfast, they were forced to stand in a long line along with everyone else as Filch, and two Auror’s, stood and stabbed them with their sensors for dark objects, something which, admittedly, made no sense - and Ron was quick to comment on it - as they should be more worried about what the kids were bringing in to the school, not out. Harry couldn’t complain, however, as he only saw more evidence of Fudge’s newly found competence.
The walk to Hogsmeade didn’t get better after that, unfortunately, with the weather of the Scottish Highlands in autumn never being favorable, and now particularly harsh, with bitter winds threatening to blow kids off their feet - especially the little Third Years, grinning as they exited the castle for their first trip to Hogsmeade, now bent over forwards with their arms raised above their heads, trudging forwards slowly as if moving through five feet of snow.
“I ‘an ‘ee ‘oneydew!”
“What?” Rolling his eyes, Draco lowered his scarf down from his face and shouted out above the raging wind, “I can see Honeydukes!” He pointed his finger across the street at the brightly lit shop, one of the few still open, freakishly similar to the bright Weasley Wizard Wheezes standing out against rows of boarded up shops. “It’s still open!”
They quickly sought out refuge from the cold at the sweet shop, along with most of the other Third Year and up kids, made clear by the fact that they stepped in and were immediately hit by a crowd, not that they minded, immediately getting a rush of warm, toffee-scented air.
“Thank God,” Ron shivered, yanking off the knitted hat Hermione had made him for Christmas he swore he only wore to support his girlfriend and rubbing his hands together. “Let’s stay here all afternoon.”
“Harry, m’boy!”
“Oh no,” Harry muttered at the same time Draco grabbed Ron who was headed for a wrack of Mice Pops and started to drag him back towards the door. But it was too late, Slughorn had already spotted them and was moving through the crowd to get to them, round belly shoving students aside.
“Harry, that’s three of my little suppers you’ve missed now!” He said once he’d reached them, jabbing a finger at Harry’s chest, who met him with a grin through gritted teeth. He and Draco’s eyes were straying to the bag of crystalized pineapple in his fist, greatly wishing to be anywhere else. “It won’t do, m’boy, I’m determined to have you! Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger love them, don’t you?”
While Hermione gave a grin through gritted teeth which matched Harry’s to a tee, saying, “Yes, they’re really -” helplessly, Draco cut her off, literally, by pushing her to the side and stepping forwards, throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulders.
“He’s right, Potter, they’re really good fun. I look forward to each one, Sir, I really do! And, is that crystallized pineapple I see? What a coincidence! It’s a favorite of mine as well!”
“Really?” Slughorn looked down, eyes widening as if he’d just realized the bag he held was there, and looked up to grin at Draco with uncanny admiration. In a second, Harry’s forced grin dropped, as he turned to his friend, piecing together exactly what the smooth talking former bully was doing. “Well then by all means take -”
“Oh no, I couldn’t,” Draco held up his hands, shaking his head. “Here,” he stepped aside to the wrack of crystallized food beside them, bent down and picked out the bickets collection; a sparkling glass container, and slammed it on the counter, paying for it smoothly then turning and dropping it into Slughorn’s other hand, keeping the same smooth smirk on his lips all the while. “On me.”
“Oh! Well I - Thank you, Draco,” He raised an eyebrow at him, squinting his eyes slightly curiously. “This isn’t going to come back to bite me, is it, m’boy? You aren’t trying to do me over the ol’ Slytherin way are you?”
“Of course not!” Draco shook his head, waving a hand. “Wouldn’t dream of it! Not for my favorite teacher…”
Ron snorted, Hermione scoffed, and Harry smirked. Slughorn remained eyeing Draco skeptically for a moment, before seemingly making up his mind that he was of no threat and shifting the glass container to one arm to extend his for a handshake.
“Well, it’s hardly professional for me to accept candy from a student… but thank you, Draco,” The blonde shook it, and with another call of, “Make sure you come along this Monday, Harry! Eight o’clock!” before stepping out into the awful weather with the door slamming in the wind behind him.
“What was that?” Hermione demanded as Ron began to laugh, bending over to grip his knees and ground himself. “You haven’t acted like that since… Well, Third Year, at most!”
“No, no, he definitely acted all pompous on the train ride before Fourth,” Ron said, waving a hand, then straightening so that he could impersonate Draco to fullest extent, imitating said train ride and saying, “‘You mean you don’t know?!” as over exaggeratingly dramatic as possible, to which Hermione and Harry both broke out laughing along with him whilst Draco turned scarlet and scowled.
“I was - that - before - shut up!” He growled but couldn’t hide his smirk as he watched Harry throw his head back and laugh, his bangs flying freely in the air.
“You really should come on Monday, Harry,” said Draco, giving him a knowing look once everyone had calmed down and they moved forward through the sweet shop. “You could put some effort in to getting the memory.”
“What was I supposed to do?” said Harry, “You had it all covered back there with your Riddle-talk.”
Draco looked to the side, turning red at the mention of how similar to Riddle he’d acted, and stopped beside a case of Exploding Bonbons, if only to look at his reflection in the glass.
“I… I didn’t know what else to do…”
Pausing, and realizing he messed up, Harry instantly moved to his friend’s side, laying a hand on his shoulder and smiling at him warmly. “Hey, I get it, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” he reached forward, tapping on the glass. “Want some candy? I know you spent all your money on that pineapple.” Turning even redder, Draco nodded, embarrassed by his poorness, but willing to accept a gift if it came from Harry.
As they left Honeydukes, each with bags of candy in hand, Harry suggested the Three Broomsticks and they continued to trudge through the wind to get there, passing Ginny, Luna, and Pansy as they went, and as the Slytherin too caught sight of them, she lowered her scarf and mouthed, “Help me” to which all four gave mocking smiles and waves, breaking off into laughs once she was out of sight.
The Three Broomsticks was, thankfully, open, and warm, and the group found empty seats in a booth in the corner, but Harry dragged them away from it, instead opting for a table out in the open. Hardly what they were used to, but he had asked for no mysteries, and booths made it too tempting for them to fall into old habits of whispering. Instead, they all ordered a Butterbeer and Ron had to keep his stare fixed on the table, uttering “I have a girlfriend” repeatedly as Rosmerta walked past, to which Hermione unfortunately heard and kicked him in the shins under the table.
“As long as Fudge doesn’t walk in in a fake beard I don’t want any mystery-talk,” Harry said, folding his hands together on the table and eyeing his friends expectantly. “So what do teens talk about?”
Draco smirked and rolled his eyes. “Well… before I got messed in with you three my friends spent our days -”
“Discussing how to humiliate us?” Ron guessed sipping his drink with. a smirk at Draco's expression.
“No. We -”
“Plotted the deaths of Muggleborns? Sorry, Mud -”
“No!” Draco scoffed, taking a swig of his drink and waving a hand. “No, we played games! Party games! Don't any of you know any good party games?”
“Exploding Snap?” Harry suggested at the same time Ron said, “Gobstones?”
“Draco, I don't see how we can play games when we are drinking at the Three Broomsticks.”
“No… but we can try verbal games! You know, Truth or Dare, Never Have I Ever, Two Truths and a Lie…”
Hermione smirked slyly over her drink. “You played Muggle games with your Slytherin friends?” Draco scowled.
“They are mutually liked games!”
“How about we play Never Have I Ever, and take a drink whenever one of us has, okay?” Harry said negotiably, eager to hopefully have fun in this dreary weather. “We’ll take turns thinking of statements. I’ll go first; never have I ever cheated on a test.”
Draco raised an eyebrow high even as he took a swig along with Harry and Ron. “Really? Kind of a simple one.” Hermione didn’t seem to think so, as she was scoffing angrily at the fact that they’d all cheated, but Harry ignored her, placing down his bottle and eyeing Draco with a clear challenge in his eyes.
“Your turn, then.”
“Alright. Never have I ever been in a duel.”
“What counts as a duel?” Hermione asked and they all looked to Harry, who sighed and settled on saying, “A clear fight where you stop and throw spells at each other, not just running around screaming.”
“Does the -”
“No, Ron,” Harry and Hermione said in unison, Hermione tacking on, “The chessboard doesn't count.” To make more sense to Draco, though it didn't help at all and he settled on just drinking his butterbeer.
“How about-”
“Not the troll either.” In the end Harry, Draco, and Hermione drank, but no Ron.
Grumpily, he came up with the next one; “Never have I ever had a crush on a teacher.” Here he leaned in close to his girlfriend, making a show of slamming his bottle down and folding his arms. After Harry did the same, they all looked at her with pointed glares, and she simply blinked confusedly at them all.
“What?”
Ron gave a harsh cough that definitely was meant to cover him saying “Lockhart.” Hermione scoffed and folded her arms.
“I was twelve,” She said, though her face had flushed bright scarlet as she bent down to take a sip. “And for the record all the girls were head over heels with him and some still are. Did you see all the fan mail he had -”
She cut herself off because her eyes, along with Harry and Ron’s, were drifting over to Draco trying to slyly take a sip from his drink. Swallowing and rolling his eyes, he said, “Can you blame me? That man was a catch.”
Snorts filled the air shortly before laughter, but this time all four were joining in because, handsome or not, two out of the four still had crushes on a complete and utter fraud and buffoon, and that was the type of things normal teens joked about. And it felt good, truly, to feel like normal teens for once.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Hermione choked, wiping a tear of joy out of her eye. “Never have I ever had a crush on a blonde,” She said, glaring mischievously over at her boyfriend, who raised his eyebrows and pointed out, tapping his finger on her butterbeer bottle as he did, “Lockhart’s blonde.”
“Damn,” She swore, wincing and taking a quick swig as Ron and Draco did the same, laughing, but Harry didn’t look at all amused.
This was it. This was when they were going to figure out his crush on the boy sitting next to him, Merlin help him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had come up with this game idea in the first place, and now he was stuck, and Merlin they were looking at him, but he just had to suck it up and take a sip and come up with a lie or something -
“Fleur is really pretty, Ron,” He said with a wobbly smile and, thankfully, they all laughed.
Round after round they played, ordering three more rounds of butterbeers for everyone, saying thing like, “tried to sneak into the girl’s dormitory” or, “been sent a Howler” or, “blackmailed someone” or, “slapped someone for fun” or, and this one was said by a very naive Draco who couldn’t possibly anticipate the chaos that would enfold, “Never have I ever snuck into another House’s Common Room.”
He took a swig of his drink proudly, then dropped the bottle on the table and widened his eyes at the three horrified faces before him, staring at each other with the same look they got when thinking about something he hadn’t experienced before with them, but this time it seemed quite the bad thing.
“What?” He blurted, oblivious, as Hermione squirmed back in her seat and waved her hand forward, saying, “It’s all you boys, I never actually got in.”
Slowly, Harry and Ron turned to look at him with matching crooked grins.
“Remember that time…”
“... in Second Year…”
“... Way back when, long before we were friends…”
“... When Crabbe had a stomach ache?”
“And Goyle wore glasses?”
Draco’s eyes widened to saucers, his lips forming an ‘o’ as he slowly shook his head, horrified. “No…”
The Gryffindor boys nodded their heads and Hermione leaned forwards to shake jazz hands at him, whispering, “Surprise!”
“How?” It was all Draco’s scattered thoughts at this revelation could align for words, and the Gryffindor’s all looked at each other, at a loss for how to explain.
“Well I brewed the Polyjuice Potion,” Hermione explained, Draco’s jaw somehow dropping further.
“When you were twelve?”
“Thirteen, actually.”
“Where? How did you get the book? How did you not get caught -”
“Well if you remember my sister was preoccupying the school with the Chamber of Secrets,” Ron pointed out, wincing as he said it at the memory of that horrific year.
“We found the book in the Restricted Section and were able to brew it in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom; no one in their right mind would go in there, after all.” Harry laughed weakly, voice cracking as he did it. “Turns out, the Chamber was actually in that bathroom. What luck, hey?”
Draco blinked rapidly, bewildered, his head jerking between each of them in turn, still horrified, and again was only able to form one word, “Why?”
Again, all three winced and eyed each other apprehensively, before blurting out in unison, “We thought you were the Heir of Slytherin!”
A long pause then, after snorting very un-Malfoy-like, Draco threw his head back and laughed like he never had before, howling and slapping his knee and crying with joy, all the stuff normal people did but someone as conformed as him never had been caught doing, before he bent double, gasping, “You really are Gryffindors!” then leaning back and laughing on and on.
He took a swig just for the fun of it, pointed a finger at Harry and gasped, “How about this? Never have I ever stalked someone!”
Rolling his eyes and taking a sip, the game continued, especially as Hermione did the same, drawing back the same argument they’d delved into before when she tried to defend her blackmailing of Rita Skeeter.
However, once they’d finished their current round of drinks Harry checked his watch and saw it was after 3:00 o’clock, and proposed they call it a day for Never Have I Ever and move onto something else.
Stepping out into the raging winds, the group stumbled on their feet a bit before the realization hit them that they probably should have had a plan of where to go next worked out before stepping into the cold, but then Hermione pushed through the boys and turned to call out through the wind, “I can see the girls in Madam Puddifoot’s. We should probably save her before she murders them.”
Harry very much agreed, being the only one in the group with experience with Madam Puddifiit's; the Haunt of Happy Couples, so he followed first, Ron and Draco staggering in the wind behind them.
Sure enough, Ginny and Luna were visible through the frosted windows, sipping coffee and blushing at each other, and Pansy was… currently banging on the window, her yells for help faintly being heard through the glass. After making a good and long point of mocking her in her time of need, the group turned for the door and stepped in, Harry immediately having to suck in a deep breath, already perturbed by this place, but then he felt Draco stepping closer and knew he was safe from humiliation again.
Also, there were no cherubs or Roger Davies snogging his pretty blonde in sight, a true miracle.
“You four are pure evil,” Pansy said as the group sat in the booth she had been lounging on, grinning widely.
“We did warn you,” Hermione said as she waved a hand to call Madam Puddifoot over. “Plus we passed the Wizarding Wireless Network on the way here. I thought Lee got a job there? Or are you two avoiding each other?”
Immediately, Pansy turned scarlet and grabbed her strawberry smoothie, draining it’s contents and swirling her straw through them, stalling as long as she could whilst the kids all listed their orders off to Madam Puddifoot, before the plump woman was gone and she had to raise her eyes, admitting, “He thinks we should break up.”
Hermione clapped her hands together, grinning with the triumph that she was right, but Ron grabbed her hands and shook his head slightly, nodding to Pansy to indicate this wasn’t a good time. Meanwhile Draco leaned closer towards his former friend and stretched his hand across the table.
“Why?” He asked, getting an eye roll from Pansy as a response.
“Why do you think?” She gestured a hand down herself. “How old am I? How old is he? He doesn’t think it’s ‘appropriate.’” Again she rolled her eyes, this time scoffing as well as she grabbed a random drink off the tray Madam Puddifoot had just presented, much to Ron’s displeasure, and tipped it back.
She placed the cup of coffee back down, sighing deeply. “He sounds like my parents, and not at all like the man I fell in love with…” None of them had anything to say to that, especially as the fact that she just openly admitted to loving Lee Jordan sank in. Last year their budding relationship had seemed like something of a joke, and when they found out the unusual couple had stayed together as long as they had, the reaction had been anything but positive. It was hard to realize how this all might have affected Pansy, especially as she said, “We all know the real reason, though; My parents are Death Eaters, and he’s friends with the Weasleys. It’s just dangerous, especially considering how I’m on thin ice with Mum and Dad anyway. I just never thought… He’s Lee Jordan, I never would’ve thought he’d care about -”
Hermione, who’d been drinking her own coffee, slammed it down as she blurted out, “Is he not acting like himself?”
“What?” Pansy said, confused, as all the boys groaned.
“She thinks your boyfriend’s Imperiused, Pansy,” Draco explained, leaning forward to glare at her. “Because Granger is a Ministry worship -”
“No,” Hermione protested, glaring back. “I think this is scarily similar to the ‘Cedric Situation.’”
Harry raised an eyebrow, and his fingers so he could make quote signs as he mocked, “The ‘Cedric Situation?’”
“What else are we supposed to call it?” Hermione asked, exasperated, then turned back to Pansy seriously, “Look this just sounds a lot like how Cho felt when Cedric broke up with her -”
“Granger you don’t understand,” Pansy said, frowning deeply, “That’s him, I know it is, he’s just acting like my parents. Who thinks we shouldn’t be together because of blood-status?” She sat back, throwing up her hands. “He’s clearly just scared like the rest of us and making foolish decisions.”
A pause then Hermione curiously said, “Then why are you telling us if you already understand it all?”
“Okay that’s it!” Ron gripped his girlfriend’s hand and dragged her out of the booth, nodding his head to Pansy as he stepped backwards, Hermione stumbling with him. “Clearly my date has no clue how to behave so we’ll be going. Malfoy,” He pointed at his biscuits. “Take my biscuits.” Then the pair disappeared around the corner.
“Gladly,” Draco grabbed the plate and immediately began scarfing down the biscuits, whilst Harry and Pansy frowned sadly at each other. Silently, the Slytherin nodded to Ginny and Luna, who were just standing from their seats, and started to get up from her own.
“Pansy?” She paused, frowning over at him, and Harry had never felt like he could read someone’s thoughts more. It was as if they were both transported back in time to Weasley Wizard Wheezes during the summer, and she was questioning her life choices just as she had then. Well, what he had to say about that hadn’t changed, not one bit. “Remember you’re in this, until -”
“The end.” She finished, managing to smile just as she did then, kneeling down and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “See you ’round, boys,” she said, raising a hand before also disappearing around the corner and out the shop, Ginny and Luna following shortly after.
Harry and Draco turned slowly to look at each other, and while Harry had been hopeful for Pansy with how that conversation ended, he immediately became saddened to see the worried expression drawn across his friend's face.
“She’ll be alright,” he reassured him, giving a hopeful smile, “You didn’t see her in the Department of Mysteries. The makings of a true Order member right there.”
“Oh trust me, I know,” Draco rolled his eyes, “I’ve known her since babyhood. It’s the fact that I know her so well that makes me recognize how once she’s in a committed relationship she wears her heart on her sleeve. I can’t see her get hurt.”
“C’mon,” Harry scoffed, waving a hand, “It’s Lee! When has Lee Jordan ever hurt someone?”
“My pride,” Draco mumbled, and at Harry’s confused look he explained, “His commentary cuts deep sometimes.”
They laughed good heartedly together.
Harry then raised his head and began to observe their surroundings. Perhaps it was the lack of Valentine’s Day propaganda or just the absence of Cho in general - nothing against Cho, simply how she and him worked as a couple - but Madam Puddifoot’s hardly appeared close to the nightmare Harry remembered it being. Then again, it could also be the presence of the only person he could imagine spending a date here with sitting next to him.
Merlin, a date. What was he even saying? This was Draco Malfoy, if there was one person he absolutely shouldn’t go on a date with, it was him.
(Draco turned to Harry, frowning slightly, because this was Harry Potter, if there was one person he absolutely shouldn’t go on a date with, it was him.)
They hardly realized their fingers had unconsciously laid themselves on top of each other until both began to sweat, and then they were yanking their hands back and wiping them on their robes.
“We should probably go,” Draco blurted, dropping a couple sickles as a tip on the table, Harry doing the same, nodding along.
“Yeah it’ll be din -” He broke off, sucking in a quick breath of air, as he and Draco’s hands had just met while dropping coins, now laying on top of each other. Slowly, they turned to face each other and were immediately met with a mirror of the same embarrassed, scarlet faced expression.
“Sor -”
“I didn’t mean -”
Again they yanked their hands back, then Draco awkwardly chuckled and, picking at a spot in the wood of the table if only so he wouldn’t have to look at Harry said, “This is awkward… Don’t we always hold hands?”
When he looked up to meet Harry’s wide eyes there was almost a hint of hope in his own, but that was crushed by Harry coughing harshly into his fist and saying, “This is a cafe for couples. Wouldn’t be appropriate, would it?”
“No,” Draco abruptly stood to his feet, scowling as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “No I suppose not.”
He froze then, tugging at Harry’s sleeve as he too got to his feet, and the Gryffindor boy looked around worriedly, confused, only to frown, unimpressed, when he saw just his two best friends caught red-handed with their hands pressed against the window next to the booth.
“Don’t stop on our account!” Ron shouted.
“No, no, just pretend we aren’t here!” Hermione added, nodding her head viciously.
The boys looked at each other, smirked, then bolted for the door, at the same time the couple realized they were in for it and turned pale as sheets.
“Wait no, stop, we -”
“She made me do it! I’m innocent I swear!”
“RON!”
It was too late, the couple was no match for a pair of angry Triwizard Champions, as Harry and Draco tackled Ron and Hermione respectively to the ground, where they fell into a bout of giggles and laughs in spite of it all.
Maybe some of the questions brought up in Never Have I Ever dangerously leaned towards talking about mysteries, and maybe the meeting with Pansy broke the fun atmosphere, but Harry still saw it as a win, because at the end of a long day on the freezing streets of Hogsmeade, he got to see the boy he liked smile.
And if the two managed to walk behind Ron and Hermione on the walk back to the castle and slide their hands together as they did? Well, they’d later claim any student who could have seen it has no proof.
-*-*-*-
Sunday, October 13th
“Did you know that October 13th is considered a very unlucky holiday in Muggle culture? Especially on Friday’s.”
In the spirit of changing the usual way of the world for the Quartet on their Weekend of Absolutely No Mysteries, the group had elected (at Draco’s suggestion and practical beg, of course, as sitting with Gryffindors got tiring after a while when you weren’t being forcibly stripped from them by a toad in pink) to sit with the Slytherins at breakfast, which had currently been going quite surprisingly well.
Despite the fact that Hermione was being “pureblood-splained” to by Theodroe Nott on Muggle culture in October. To be fair, he was talking to the friends as a whole, but she was the one sitting directly across from him, and therefore getting the full face of haughty intelligence that was Theodore.
Draco said she’d find it endearing. She did not, not one bit.
“Should we be going, then?” She asked, suddenly, as he opened his mouth again to explain the lore behind the birth of Halloween in France (Did someone ask him? No, but he seemed to think they did) and instead frowned sadly when his audience eagerly hopped out of their seats.
“Yes, yes, let’s do that,” Draco said then, realizing he was leaving his friends behind, stopped to turn back to Theo, Greg, and Vince and add on, “Before the line to Hogsmeade gets too full.” They seemed content with that.
However, things turned sour once the Quartet had reached the Entrance Hall, and Ron and Hermione awkwardly turned to their friends, shuffling their feet.
“Actually, Harry, Draco,” said Hermione, gnawing at her bottom lip. “Ron and I were planning on going on a date today.”
“Yeah, we haven’t had a proper one at all,” Ron added, “Not when we were too busy keeping things a secret last year.”
“Would you mind if -”
“Not at all!” Draco exclaimed immediately. “We already told you you shouldn't have been hiding your relationship in the first place, didn’t we? Who are we to say you can’t have a little fun now, right Potts?”
For a split second Draco swore he saw Harry's eye twitch before he grinned. “Go on ahead, we’ll be fine!” He exclaimed and while the all too happy couple smiled and blushed before running off down across the grounds, Draco saw through Harry’s facade in a second.
He didn’t say anything, though. He’d learned the power of silence through viewing the memories in the Pensieve and the quiet nights they'd spent in the Burrow after waking from nightmares. Any quiet moments one could easily push to the back of their minds if they were actively trying to forget the feelings associated with said moments.
Still, they existed, which is why Draco remained quiet as they set out on the path to Hogsmeade, and only spoke up against when his eyes caught sight of a spot of black on top of the high hills boarding the village, where they had once spoken with Sirius about Barty Crouch Sr and who could be the spy at the school two years ago. Unconsciously, his eyes drifted down to the small patch of grass at the foot of that hill, where had first taught Harry to dance in that same year.
Smirking, he instantly grabbed his friend’s hand and began dragging him towards the grass.
Harry startled, looking around for danger as he always did, but relaxed when he followed Draco’s gaze to grass and found himself smiling too.
“We don’t have a radio this time,” He pointed out once they’d reached the green, shuffling awkwardly while Draco stuffed his knitted hat Hermione had gifted him into his robe pocket, clearly ready to dance in the still quite frigid weather. “So there wouldn’t really be any -”
“There’s always a point to dancing, Potts,” Draco said, gently raising Harry’s hands, just as he had two years ago, to wrap around his waist, holding the other up. “One simply has to look for it.” He placed his own hand on Harry’s shoulder, the other taking the hand Harry was holding midair, and instantly, Harry felt a shiver run down his spine.
Undoubtedly, dancing hadn’t been this awkward with Draco two years ago, and the laughs hadn’t been forced, and their brows had been sweating with exhaustion after hours on the dance floor at the Yule Ball, not within minutes of staring into each other’s eyes.
That’s when Draco’s words clicked in Harry’s brain, just as he was starting to count the flecks of blue in his eyes. One had to look for it. The point of dancing wasn’t music or fun, but it solely had to do with the partner.
Merlin’s bloody pants, Draco was flirting with him.
“Er - I - Erm -” Harry gulped as Draco raised an eyebrow at him, playfully.
“Are you alright there, Scarhead? You know you lead, right?”
“Right, Erm -” Harry started to move backwards a step, Draco following, and had to suck in a deep breath when the mischievous smirk didn’t leave the other boy’s lips. Had to gulp once more when his eyes positively sparkled under the sun, and shivered again when a curl of Draco’s hair fell into his eyes briefly, before he jerked his head to sweep it back.
“If someone sees us,” Harry pointed out, looking for any way out and fearing Draco would hear how fast his heart was beating any second now, “They’ll think we’ve gone mad.”
“Dunno,” Draco shrugged as Harry lifted his hand and twirled him in a circle, before catching him clumsily and having to save it by dipping him low so the boy didn’t crash onto the frosty grass. Draco gave a little yelp of surprise as Harry’s heart leaped involuntarily, but then the blonde, mercifully, giggled. “Maybe they’ll think we’re madly in love.”
Both boys paled in a second because Draco had not meant to say that. It had simply slipped out, truly, but he’d said it nonetheless, and now he had to deal with the way Harry was looking at him, his lashes fluttering just so, their bodies practically pressed against each other in the dip. Now both had nothing to do but look at each other as the tense silence grew, only breaking when Draco choked out an apology which died in his throat as Harry lifted him back to a standing position, then dropped his hands.
He was leaving. Of course he was, just as he had in the Burrow. Harry was always walking away lately, instead of looking him in the eye and giving him a straight (or not) answer. It frustrated Draco to no end, so maybe that was why his hand involuntarily jutted forward and grabbed onto Harry’s, stopping him in his tracks.
“Wait -”
“Please, Draco, I need a drink -”
“No!” Just as he hadn’t meant to bring up the two of them possibly loving each other, he hadn’t meant to yell that out either, yet he had, and again, there was no going back, so instead he yanked Harry around to look him firmly in the eye, bellowing over the howling wind, “I’m tired of you always running away! What’s with you lately? We weren’t like this you know, I thought we were friends -”
“I did too!” Draco, despite his best efforts, winced as Harry shouted into his face. “I thought we were friends, and nothing more. That was the deal, wasn’t it? We said we’d be friends for a few months, then when the Tournament was over, we’d go our separate ways! What happened? Why are we still doing this and why, fucking why do I feel like I’m looking at Cho when I look at you?”
Involuntarily, Draco’s heart soared. He felt like he was looking at Cho when he looked at him, and Cho had been his girlfriend so…
“Harry,” His voice was small, heard only because they were now all too close, and the wind had come to a sudden standstill, as if the entire world had held its breath in the wake of the two. “When I look at you… I feel the same.”
Harry, unfortunately, didn’t look thrilled in the least.
“Exactly!” He threw up his hands. “This isn’t - this wasn’t what was supposed to happen! I’m supposed to hate you! Potter and Malfoy, enemies since meeting, and now I -” His voice cracked, and his eyes widened in horror as it did, but he quickly pinched the bridge of his nose, trying his best to blink away the stinging in his eyes before glaring back at the stupidly attractive Slytherin standing gob-smacked before him, bellowing even though there was no more wind to be heard through, “I never planned on liking you!”
The world went still, and was most certainly holding its breath now, as two teens who both hadn’t planned on liking each other in this way, on now holding hands, or anything that had come in between this moment and their fateful handshake two years ago, could only stare across the short gap that felt like a chasm between them.
Harry Potter began to cry, and the universe did too. Icy droplets pattered on the boys noses, hair, and shoulders, and they didn’t pay it any mind. Instead, Draco Malfoy took a step forward and, without hesitation, embraced his friend.
“I like you too, Potts,” he said, and the Gryffindor’s sobs cut through the air, whilst the Slytherin allowed himself to cry into his shoulder as well.
Maybe this broke Harry’s pact of no mysteries, of a fun-filled weekend. He didn’t care, because when the two teens pushed away from each other, the gap didn’t last long.
A gap that had used to always be there, still and tense between them, closed, in a few, painstakingly slow seconds, as Draco leaned down, and Harry tilted his chin up.
Their lips met, and the world released a sigh.
But maybe that was a sigh of disappointment, because as Theodore Nott said hours ago, October 13th is considered a very unlucky day in Muggle culture.
Maybe Harry and Draco got a few moments of bliss, but when they broke apart from the beautiful, earth-shattering kiss, Harry didn’t even have time to smile before he let out a howl of pain, gripping his forehead as he fell to his knees in pain.
“Harry? What’s wrong?” Draco’s voice drifted vaguely as if in a mist, but Harry wasn’t listening. His ears were filled with sudden new sounds; screams, shouts, and the unmistakable blasts of spells bouncing off walls and bodies. Music to his ears.
“Give it to me, Gregorovitch.” The high, cold voice came from his lips naturally, although he knew it wasn’t his. But it was, somehow, just as the pale hand before him was, and the long thin wand in his hand, with a twin Phoenix feather core.
But this wand was weak. It had failed him, time and again, which was why he needed the one of the man before him, so desperately, suspended in midair above him, not bound by robes or any means, just floating, still and almost peaceful in a world of flames and screams. The man’s face was level with his, contorted with pain and fear, but old and undoubtedly wise. With pure-white hair and beard, he almost looked like Father Christmas. If the jolly man had been through torture and pain as this one had, at least.
“I have it not, I have it no more! It was, many years ago, stolen from me!” The old man had an accent, similar to Viktor Krum’s. Harry couldn’t think hard on it, for he was distracted by the unmistakable roaring of a dragon somewhere overhead, though couldn’t move his head to look up and try to see it. Instead, the high, cold voice came out of his mouth once more.
“Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Gregorovitch. He knows… He always knows.”
Gregorovitch’s eyes widened, but it seemed his very pupils widened with them. They dilated into wide circles, until they seemed to overflow all of Harry’s vision, before he was in a dark corridor, following the stout man, whose hair was slightly browner, face younger, as he hurried forwards with a lantern held out aloft.
The door at the end of the hall swung open inwards as Gregorovitch burst it, swinging his lantern to light up a room full of wood shavings and incomplete carvings, before finally spotting what he was looking for.
More specifically, who, for on the open windowsill of this little workshop perched, like a bird, a young, handsome man with blonde hair and a chiseled face. He was grinning, proud and cocky, then pointed forwards a wand and shot out a Stunning Spell from the end of it before jumping backwards out of the window with a crow of laughter.
“Who was he?” They were back in the room full of flames. Distantly, Harry could hear a woman’s voice, howling, “My Lord!” but he ignored it, focused on the face of terror inches from his own. He’d revel in it in any other second but now, he needed the wand. “Who was the thief, Gregorovitch?”
“I do not know, I never knew, a young man - no - please - PLEASE!”
Then the man was screaming, screaming, screaming, until his screams turned to Harry’s own in his natural voice as his eyes filled with bright green light, before he was back on the frosty ground of the hills outside of Hogsmeade, staring up into Draco’s worried gray eyes.
“He’s found him,” He choked out, grabbing onto the sleeve of Draco’s cloak and staring into nothingness, eyes still seeing the fire, and the terror in Gregorovitch’s eyes. “He found Gregorovitch, and he killed him. Killed because he didn’t have the wand. Grindelwald stole it, when he was younger.”
Harry had recognized the boy with the golden hair instantly, from the picture in Rita Skeeter’s book he’d seen only days ago, but he hadn’t imagined his and Voldemort’s minds would still be connected, though he supposed he should’ve known, with how his scar still ached terribly. But, nevertheless, he’d said what he’d said, and with a sharp pain a high, cold voice slipped through his very mind once more.
“So that’s who stole it… Thank you very much, Harry.