Happily humming, Draco made his way through the barely lit castle corridors. He was pleased with himself, pretty much so. Today was a success on all levels. Draco had satisfied his urges thoroughly. He had plenty of material to last until the next event.
Nobody had recognized him on today’s convention, of course. He would never live out the shame if people saw him. This “hobby” of his had become more a kind of obsession. It was his guilty pleasure, his safest kept secret. That’s also why he had to sneak into his dorm now at this ungodly hour instead of walking with the masses who acted like their mutual obsession was normal.
Fanboying really was hard, especially when done in secret. Sighing to himself, Draco opened the door to the eighth-year common room. As expected, this late at night the room was empty. Leisurely, Draco made his way to his dorm which he thankfully had all to himself, thinking about which item he should use first. The body pillow or the miniature plushie? Both? Maybe he should read fanfiction in his HP-pajamas while drinking hot chocolate out of his new HP-mug.
Momentarily distracted by planning out his night, Draco bumped into the couch. Losing balance, he fell right next to the couch with his load of items clattering around him. Cursing, Draco stood up, gathering his precious new possessions in his arms, not noticing the mop of unruly black hair that emerged from the depths of the couch.
Groggily, Harry rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t sleep and thus had stayed in the common room for distraction. Definitely not because he wanted to bushwhack Malfoy who was suspiciously absent the whole day, alright Hermione, shut up!
Harry must have dozed off, though, because he jolted right up when hearing a bang, followed by clattering and cursing.
“Malfoy?” he asked into the dimly lit room.
Draco froze on his spot, not daring to move a muscle. Shit. Why was Potter here, awake? Maybe, if he stayed silent Potter would fall back to sleep. No such luck though. Potter was now fully awake, clumsily disentangling himself from a blanket and standing up.
“I can see you, you know?” he asked, chuckling.
Ever so slowly Draco turned to face Potter with wide, fearful eyes. The other was already staring back at Draco intently. Potter’s brows furrowed.
“Is that ‘Chosen-One’-merchandise? Wait, you got a life-sized pillow of me? Is that a t-shirt with my face? Godric, Draco, you…you are a fanboy! You went to the Harry-Potter-convention they held in Hogsmeade today, right?” Potter blabbered incredulously, his voice full of wonder.
Both boys stared at each other for a minute. Harry in morbid fascination, Draco with a dawning sense of mortification. Draco’s terror peaked and he let out a strangled sound, turning around and running to his dorm as fast as he could, leaving Potter behind flabbergasted.
Heart racing, Draco sank onto the ground behind the closed door. Groaning, his head thumped against the wood. Holy fuck. Potter saw…He saw!!!
While Draco was having a mental breakdown Harry’s mind was racing. Who would have thought that the cold and sneering Slytherin had such a juicy secret? Malfoy was a fanboy. HIS fanboy. Wait, did Malfoy like him?
Harry’s heart thudded thunderously in his chest at that thought. Suddenly, he remembered what Hermione had said while commenting Harry’s continued habit of staring at Malfoy. She’d said Harry’s handling of his crush wasn’t healthy and would it hurt him to just talk to Malfoy, honestly, Harry?! Harry hadn’t listened enough to really register her words at that moment because he was too distracted by the curve of Malfoy’s neck and how it bends when he leaned into Parkinson to whisper something into the girl’s ear.
Harry’s behaviour made so much sense now that he really thought about it. And Hermione’s constant eyerolls and Ron’s groans, Harry realized, were reactions to this. Wow. Harry had a crush on Malfoy. And Malfoy was a Harry-Potter-fan. So, in conclusion, there was a realistic chance that Harry’s crush was requited. In fact, it was highly probable.
Grinning, Harry stalked to Draco’s door and knocked. “Go away!”, came the muffled but nonetheless haughty answer. Never one to do as ordered, Harry pushed the door open, accidentally shoving Draco onto all fours which resulted in an indignant whelp from the blond and a spectacular view of the blonde’s behind for Harry.
“Sorry”, Harry said after a second of staring too long and offered his hand to a red and blotchy faced blond. His gaze was drawn to the interior of the room when Draco just continued to stare wide-eyed at Harry.
What Harry saw took his breath away. Draco’s room was full of posters and newspaper clippings of him. A life-sized cardboard-Harry stared seductively back at him (at this point Harry would like to mention that he never posed for this ridiculous Fanclub and was appalled of their photoshop-skills). The bed was loaded with pillows of his face and plushies of a mini-Harry, a silvery stag and a bright yellow lightning bolt.
Shrieking, Draco scrambled to his feet and ripped posters off the walls frantically. “P-Potter! It’s not what it looks like!”, he stuttered with desperation clear in his eyes and voice, trying to hide the posters behind his back.
“So, you’re not my biggest fan?” Harry asked, smirking.
“Of course not, Potter”, Draco sneered with all the decorum he could muster. “Someone clearly broke into my room to prank me.”
“Uhuh”, Harry hummed doubtfully. “So, you wouldn’t care if I took this interesting snow globe of me in a photoshopped Santa-outfit?” Harry casually picked up the snow globe, tossed it in the air and caught it with one hand.
Draco gasped and ripped the globe out of Potter’s hand, carefully placing it back after reassuring himself it hadn’t taken any damage. Then he angrily turned to the Gryffindor to reprimand him but instantly deflated when met with Potter’s smug expression.
“You’re my fanboy, admit it”, Harry demanded.
Draco rigorously shook his head, grabbing the next best big item to hide behind which was the body pillow.
Caught in a little stare-off with his pillow-self, Harry shook himself. He had a mission, after all. Ignoring the green-eyed death stare of the pillow, he stalked to Malfoy who immediately stepped back. Harry crowded him against the wall.
Draco tried to fend Potter off with the body pillow, but to no avail. Potter slammed his hands on either side of Draco’s head, effectively caging him in.
Potter glowered at him, and Draco squeaked. Potter looked positively predatory. “Say it”, he growled.
Draco whimpered, out of fear or because Potter’s eyes ignited his deep-rooted desires, he didn’t know. “I–I am a fanboy”, he whispered, looking resolutely at his shoes.
Harry exhaled sharply. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He took hold of Draco’s chin and forced the other boy to look into his eyes. “Who’s fanboy?”
“Yours”, Draco breathed, hypnotized by the burning green eyes.
“That’s right. Mine”, Harry growled possessively, surprising himself with the force behind his words.
He took a step back and looked Draco up and down, considering. Then he plucked the body pillow out of Draco’s hands and took the pillows place. Harry positioned Draco’s hands to rest against his chest where they curled into his shirt reflexively. “You don’t need this stuff when you have the real thing right here”, Harry said and gently cupped Draco’s face.
“How about, instead of being my fanboy you become my boyfriend?” Harry asked, stroking the blonde’s cheek with his thumb soothingly as if reassuring the other of his good intentions.
Draco’s eyes widened and a rosy blush began to bloom on his cheeks. That was just like the fanfiction he read the other day which had fueled his fantasies all week. It was like all his wildest dreams coming true. “O-okay”, he stuttered.
That was all Harry needed as confirmation to claim his boyfriend’ s lips in a scorching kiss.
Happily humming, Draco snuggled deeper into the bed’s covers. Ignoring the indignant huffs from beside him, he tightened his arms around his favourite thing in the world: a giant Golden Snitch plushie – imbedded with warming charms from the Chosen One himself.
“What about me?” Harry asked, lips pulled into pout. “I’m your boyfriend!”
“But you’re not as fluffy as my plushie. You can cuddle me from behind”, Draco dismissed him, waving a hand. Another indignant huff sounded through the bedroom before Draco felt warmth enveloping his back.
Now he had everything he loved by his side: his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s fan-merchandise. “Perfect”, he mumbled before sleep claimed him.
The End.