I wanted to see how much I could get away with
The afternoon sun slanted through the long windows of the Great Hall and draped thick lines of warm golden light across the tables. It stretched down the room and finally crested the last table. Potter’s eyes sparked bright as he squinted into the sinking sun. Draco wasn’t watching, but he couldn’t help noticing; it wasn’t his fault Potter was so noticeable. It was Saturday and most people already ate, so only half the castle was sat between them still eating a late lunch and Draco had gotten too good at spotting the boy from across the room. But only so he could find opportunities to laugh at him.
Draco slowly sifted through his plate of food as he ate slower than normal. He only let himself look at Harry every few bites. He sat alone at Slytherin table with his back toward the wall, waiting for Blaise and Pansy. They're late because they probably just started writing the Charms essay they were supposed to be revising together over lunch. It was fine by him since he didn’t really want to edit them anyway; he always ended up revising them on his own while they did each other’s nails.
It was late for lunch, he should've come down earlier. It wasn’t supposed to be so golden in here, everything bathed in a warm glow. Potter wasn’t supposed to be reading something by himself with light skimming his hair like some ridiculous crown. His messy curls barely covered that stupid lightning scar cracked across his forehead. It carved thin lines down his brown face and it all made his eyes so much more shocking. Even worse, he had gotten taller over summer break and his shoulders wider. His sun-kissed arms looked great and Draco hated them and the sleeveless sweater Potter wore today.
Halfway through his relaxed eating, the shouting and laughing spread down the Gryffindor table like wildfire. He hadn’t been paying attention to his food or his own book and definitely not Potter, but the commotion forced him to watch the Gryffindors. Redheads were popping up everywhere, much more than the Weasleys could manage now that half of them had graduated. Some had started running out of the Great Hall hollering. This was a first for the school; impressive. The wave of ginger jumped to the Hufflepuff table like some contagious plague. Draco turned to the head table; it was only Professors Sprout and Trelawney. They had no chance at reigning in whatever this nonsense was.
Draco started eating faster so as to get away from all the chaos. It completely ruined the soft golden mood of everything, like a stone tossed into a still lake sending the birds flying. The wave jumped again to contaminate Ravenclaw table now. Before it closed in on the Slytherin table, Draco could tell people were specifically turning into the Weasley twins.
The idiots made an insane amount of polyjuice and added it to a hundred goblets at least.
Draco reached to dump his own out into an empty bowl, but there were several freckles already dotting up his hand and over his wrist.
“Damn it,” he muttered and less than a second later impulsively downed the rest of his drink. His only reason was it’d get him out of meeting up with Blaise and Pansy later.
Thank Merlin, it was the weekend. He was wearing his regular clothes, which was much better than his house robes. It would’ve been mortifying getting caught as a Slytherin Weasley; there would've been no dismissing the fact that he had fallen for the prank. He was wearing dark slacks and a cashmere lilac sweater; much less of a dead give away.
Draco grabbed an apple, abandoned his plate and left before anyone could notice he didn’t look like himself anymore. Once the confusion died down, someone might remember he had been sitting near them. It was best to get lost in the sea of Weasley while he could. Finding Potter now, with less than half the students available to block him, was child’s play. He was still sat at his table laughing at his friends; of course, he managed not to get hit with this crap.
Draco decided to aimlessly wander the halls and watch the pockets of chaos across the castle. There were quite a lot of Freds and Georges running around, or maybe they were all the same twin. Draco sure as hell couldn’t tell. Whoever they were polyjuiced into didn’t matter, because everyone was desperate to pull off some nonsense that couldn’t be pinned on them. The blame would fall to the Weasleys; even if they didn’t polyjuice people, no one would believe them. This has Weasley twin written all over it.
He was taller now, his longer legs making quick work of the stairs. He tried taking them two at a time, and stopped immediately. There wasn’t enough room in these pants for that.
“Damn it,” He snapped looking down at his silly freckled ankles sticking out of his pant legs. He beelined to the closest bathrooms.
He looked ridiculous—exactly like a Weasley, covered in freckles with altogether too much limb. He had to admit that there was something nice about the bone structure though, and the eyes were kind. Well, the eyes were kind when it was actually one of the twins; Draco’s scowling in the mirror ruined that a little. He ran a hand through the hair and tried a smile. It was boyish and inviting. It was something Potter would’ve smiled back at.
His sleeves were a bit short too; he rolled them up, but there was nothing to do about the sliver of midriff peeking out from under the shorter hem. He yanked the sweater down and it only skimmed the top of his pants; no point in stretching it out if it wasn’t gonna help anyway. He ducked into a stall, vanished the sweater to his room, and summoned a green button down. The sleeves were still short but it was long enough to tuck into his pants.
“Why’d they have to be taller? Stupid Weasley idiots,” he said walking out of the stall while rolling his sleeves up.
His pants were tighter, but only enough to make a show out of his legs and his ass looked pretty good right now. Damn it, this wasn’t his ass. Merlin, did he just check out one of those twins. Draco shuddered.
“They really just gave so many people the chance to strip them naked. Talk about not having shame,” Draco said annoyed that he was slightly impressed.
His shoes were snug, but thankfully it was tolerable. He rolled his pant legs a couple times until the shortness looked intentional. It wasn’t to his taste but he didn’t look like a total git anymore and that was a win. At least, he wasn’t wider in the shoulders now. His clothes were always tailored, with no extra room for spontaneously wider shoulders; his only option would've been to stretch his shirt out. After another once over, Draco decided the Weasley twins could be attractive if they had better style and maybe a better haircut. He undid the top few buttons for a bit more room around his chest, just in case.
Draco went back to walking around watching gangly redheads rush about pranking each other, and idly hoped to run into Harry Potter. He had been finishing his food not concerned at all about this Weasley apocalypse but that was a while ago now. That boy was always so quick to smile with his friends, and just once Draco wanted to see it aimed at him. Maybe since he looked like someone Potter was so fond of, he’d stand a chance. But there was no way Draco would put effort into finding Harry, that would be desperate.
Instead he chose hallways at random to walk down and fiddled with his wand. He could’ve sworn someone ducked behind a suit of armor as he turned around to watch a group of twins jinxing each other, but he decided that wasn’t his problem. After ten minutes of people running past him and absently feeling like he was being watched, Draco realized Harry could’ve been turned too. Maybe it just happened later than the others.
“Damn.”
“Hey, wait up,” a familiar voice calls from down the hall.
Apparently Draco hadn’t needed to do anything in the end; Harry had found him instead.
He hears someone else running and a second later another Weasley clone races past him and clumsily skids around the far corner.
Draco turns to the voice behind him, and almost forgets he looks like a Weasley himself.
Harry was wearing a too small green sweater vest that barely skimmed the top of his jeans. Merlin, if he lifted an arm, his whole stomach would show. Much more than the accidental midriff Draco had been sporting earlier. He was clearly wearing it all wrong, without so much as an undershirt; his arms and collarbone were just out for the world to see. The v-neck dipped toward his chest and a bit of hair peeked out and Draco almost stopped breathing. Harry's book had blocked that earlier. What a ridiculous way to wear a perfectly okay sweater vest. Mother would grimace into next week. Potter’s arms looked nice though, and that collarbone was a bit too enticing.
Draco fixed his eyes on Harry’s face instead, which didn’t help his nerves at all. His face was too open, too relaxed. There was none of the tension Draco was so used to, and suddenly he realized he wouldn’t survive getting a smile turned on him. Not when the lack of animosity alone was already enough to make his heart stutter. At least, he could openly make a fool of himself since Harry didn’t know it was him.
“Well, I’ve got things to do, so… bye, Harry.”
Draco was content with sneaking in his first name. That would be enough. Harry blinked at him.
“What else could you possibly have to do? Haven’t you done enough?” Harry asked gesturing vaguely at everything. His arms moved, and the line of skin at his waist got a lot more visible. Draco’s feet were stuck to the floor.
Harry narrowed his eyes, “Fred?”
Draco wanted Harry to keeping looking at him like that, like he wanted something from him. He needed to convince Potter that he was Fred right now, then they’d keep talking and he’d keep looking at him with those green eyes squinted in concern and not anger.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said with a smirk. Harry smiled.
Draco wanted to swear. Harry was quick to happiness but had so few reasons for it, that it seemed fleeting, like a shallow emotion he rushed through and never stayed in. Draco wanted to cave in on himself knowing he only smiled for him because he looked like one of the twins. Harry would never look like that if he knew who it really was on the receiving end. Draco wanted another smile immediately and knew there would be no getting enough.
“You got time, right?”
“Depends, Harry. For something fun?”
The joking non-answer seemed to convince him, because Harry looked up and down the hall, and then dragged him into a broom closet a few feet away. Draco let him close the door on them and tried to rush his eyes’ adjustment to the dark. He didn’t want to miss anything.
“Another one of our secret rendezvous, eh Harry?” Draco tried to land that flirty teasing he’s heard the twin’s do on the quidditch pitch—the comments Ron always rolled his eyes at. One time he caught Draco rolling his eyes at the same comment and they shuddered and silently agreed to never bring up the fact that they had agreed on something.
“Lumos,” Harry said and pulled Draco toward him. He had something in his other hand but they were so close now Draco had to lean into Harry and look over his shoulder to see. It just looked like ancient scraps of parchment, so he waited for Harry to explain as he focused on maintaining his sanity. Potter’s hair smelled lemony and his shoulder was against Draco’s chest; he needed to calm his breathing before Harry noticed.
“It’s not working. Did you mess with it?” Harry raised the tattered paper like that alone clarified something.
That wasn’t enough for Draco to catch on. The twins could’ve been doing anything at this point; guessing would be a waste of time. And worse, it might give him away.
“Dunno. Maybe? Lemme see,” Draco said putting an arm over Harry’s shoulder and pulling on the parchment with his other hand. This was worse than just having Harry near him; he knew it immediately, but he was a masochist and stayed leaned against the boy.
Harry helped him unfold the parchment until they could read it properly.
“Merlin,” Draco whispered before he could stop himself. This looked like an exact replica of Hogwarts—mapping this place was supposed to be impossible, but here Harry was holding an apparently perfect map. The moving staircases glided across the paper, the dorms, library, the Great Hall, all present and accounted for. Damn, it even looked to scale, Draco thought bitterly as he examined the inked hallways and classrooms.
“Exactly,” Harry said, “it's all wrong. Was it you or George?”
Draco didn’t see anything wrong with it and tried to stall for time because Fred was supposed to know this.
“How do you know I’m not George?” Draco said with a raised eyebrow.
“Come off it, man. You know that doesn’t work on me,” Harry said quickly, holding the map higher to say that was more important. Before turning away, Harry smirked and said, “Besides you’re the only one I’d have a broom closet rendezvous with. Don’t you know that?”
Draco was lucky Harry turned back to the map so quickly because he could feel his face heat up. Harry should know better than to say something like that while making eye contact—did he have any sense of decency? Was this more pointless flirting? Or did Potter actually have a thing with Weasley? Whichever it was, for this one conversation he seemed allowed to flirt back and he was dying to see Harry blush.
“Not even with my identical twin? Whole point is we’re equally hot,” Draco said leaning down toward Harry’s ear.
“But he’s not you,” Harry said turning his head back up toward Draco. He stopped short and blinked, Draco hadn’t moved back and now they were only a few inches apart staring at each other. Harry lifted his wand and tapped the hilt of it against Draco’s hand; the one hanging off Harry’s shoulder.
“Take it, I need to point something out.” He could feel Harry’s breath on his face, and those green eyes were not moving away. Draco had to turn first. Hopefully Harry’s head blocked the Lumos charm enough to keep his reddening cheeks in the dark.
Draco tried to ignore their fingers brushing against each other as he grabbed the wand and was starting to go increasingly more insane the longer they stood here huddled together. He was going to lose his mind in this damned closet.
Draco steadied his breathing, recast the Lumos charm, and aimed it at the map. Harry started in immediately.
“Half the castle is showing up as you or George. Look at the hospital wing,” Harry said unfolding the right edge of the map to show more of the castle. So, they weren’t all one twin—made sense if they didn’t want to go bald using their hair for this many doses of the potion. Draco leaned in more to see.
“Oh my…” Draco said trying not to sound too shocked that the map was also tracking everyone in it, but they were close enough that Harry definitely heard his breath hitch. Holy shit, this is advanced magic. It shouldn’t be allowed. What if Harry had been spying on him or something?
“Lots of Freds and Georges,” Draco agreed.
“And our common room,” Harry folded the right side back up and took the left from Draco to unfold it to see Gryffindor tower.
“Hmm. Odd.”
“So you don’t know either? Polyjuice has never worked on the map before. I can’t figure out why this time it is.”
“Well, you never do pay attention in class do you?” Draco said without thinking. “Option 1: the map’s not as good as we thought,” he said raising a finger. “Option 2: it was that good. But now it’s getting old and the magic’s wearing off.” He put up a second finger and could feel Harry staring.
Draco grabbed the back of Harry’s head with his wand hand and pointed his face back toward the map. He tried to ignore how soft Harry’s hair was, how nicely it curled around his fingers. No wonder his hair’s always a mess, Draco would want to play with it all the time too.
“Option 3: we made one hell of a polyjuice and did better than any other brew the map has seen before. Could be a fourth option I haven’t thought of yet. Why haven’t you asked…Hermione?” Draco had almost messed it all up and called her Granger.
“She doesn’t like the map. Thinks I’ll lose it and someone could use it to get to me.”
“She’s not wrong. But people seem to find you anyway,” Draco said. Harry really did have a knack for danger that was always too serious for a kid to get stuck handling.
Harry shifted the map and brought a new section of the castle toward him—the hallway they were in, with the closet and everything. Fuck. Draco froze; still 3 fingers raised over the map and huddled around Harry with his other hand still in his hair, still holding his wand. There weren’t freckles on his forearms anymore. Their closet showed two people: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Feeling Harry against him had stolen all of his focus; damn, he should've paid better attention.
“Fred doesn’t know I don’t pay attention in class.”
“With your grades everyone knows,” Draco shot back in a low voice. He couldn't still act friendly towards him, not when he knows he’s Draco, but he didn’t know what to do. So, he just stayed exactly where he was. Maybe he didn’t jump away because Harry clearly didn’t when he saw him change back. Harry hadn’t moved at all for some reason.
“How d’you know my grades?”
“I keep track of student rankings,” Draco said trying to keep calm. Unfortunately for Draco, he hasn’t had any practice. He has never been calm a single day of his life.
“Because Hermione always beats you for top spot?”
Harry seemed to be feeling whatever Draco was because they were trading insults like always but his face wasn’t reacting to anything and his body wasn’t moving. It was like they didn’t know how to transition out of the friendly stance they were in—and almost like they didn’t want to.
“Not my fault she’s a try hard. And she’s never beaten me in Charms.”
This is usually when they throw a hex at each other or storm off. They just stood starting at each other. Harry’s eyes really were so green from this close.
“You changed back at option one,” Harry said like he was grasping for something to say.
“Wha—why didn’t you say?”
“I-I don’t know. I thought—y-you were gonna give me a real answer about the map,” he stammered out defensively. “And you played along. Why didn’t you say anything? You let me think you were Fred,” Harry shot back at Draco.
“Thought it’d be funny?” Harry didn’t buy it. Hell, Draco didn’t even buy it. “I don’t know. You seemed so sure you could tell Fred from George, I wanted to know how well you knew him. It’s your fault for not noticing what I’m wearing. Weasley could never look this good.”
“He can actually.”
“Do you really have a thing with him then?” Draco said tensing a little.
“Not really. He’s one of my best mates. I mean, we could if we wanted—that’s not the point,” Harry said getting back to his defensive tone. “I’m not that stupid. I know what your wands look like. You had yours out in the hall.”
“So, not only did you know I wasn’t really Fred, you knew it was me? Because of my wand?” Draco couldn’t quite make sense of how they ended up in this closet. The pieces weren’t fitting together.
Harry blushed at the implications of knowing Draco’s wand.
Draco’s blush felt almost as bad as Harry’s looked. They definitely looked ridiculous—stood against each other, Draco’s hand in Harry’s hair, their faces blushing and too close, but both completely tensed.
“You called me Harry. You’ve never done that. I guess I wanted to know why?” he said unsure of himself. He shifted his weight between his feet and Draco felt him move against his chest.
“I wanted to see how much I could get away with,” Draco said without thinking.
“What?” Harry froze and his back tensed against Draco’s arm.
Draco nearly stopped blushing just so he could pale in horror of having just weirded Harry out. Why was he allowed to be honest but then judge Draco for his answer? Dammit, Draco didn’t mean for their closeness and the dark closet to trick him into honesty—Harry’s face was too close for that to count as fair.
“You look different when you’re friendly, it caught me off guard,” he added in an attempt to defend himself. He wanted to kick himself because he’s pretty sure that only made it worse.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
“I caught you off guard? What, when I smiled at you or when I put my arm around you?” Harry had the faintest smile on his lips now and his body had relaxed a little against him. Draco hated it. How dare this smug idiot tease him now?
“Stop it,” Draco said in a low voice, and forgetting his hand was still on Harry’s head, fisted his hand into his hair. Something flashed across Harry’s eyes then and he went rigid.
“Why should I?” Harry breathed out. It was a whisper against Draco’s face and he was too annoyed to even appreciate it. Stupid arrogant Potter.
“Because I’m not the only idiot in this closet right now,” Draco said, still in his low voice. He almost wished he could make it lower since Harry seemed to like it.
“Did you just admit to your own idiocy?” Harry said still joking, still baiting Draco.
Draco was too focused on how fast Harry’s chest was moving; he was feeling something behind his nonchalant demeanor, and in that moment Draco became determined to make him crack. He straightened his back so he could really look down at Harry and tightly pulled his head back by his hair, so Harry had nowhere to look but up at him.
Harry reflexively reached his arm out to hold Draco’s forearm, like that would loosen the grip on his hair. He seemed embarrassed at making another point of contact between them, and tried to look away. Draco wanted to watch Harry’s face as the red deepened and crawled down his neck; his blush was almost at the collar of his shirt now and Draco couldn’t help but glance at Harry’s chest.
“You want me so bad, it makes you stupid,” Harry said finally looking back at Draco with some kind of newfound confidence.
Stupid fucking Gryffindors, Draco thought as he walked them back into a wall pinning Harry under him.
“You’d know all about stupidity, wouldn’t you? At least I need a reason for mine,” Draco whispered.
Harry tensed and his smile dropped. Draco smirked at this.
“Scared, Potter?”
Harry raised his other hand to Draco’s hair, pushed it back out of his eyes.
“You wish,” he said before meeting his eyes again, “Draco.”