Phase Three – Dating
Potter was wearing him down. Draco could feel his resistance crumbling with the Gryffindor’s relentless onslaught of pick-up lines and don’t even get him started on all the casual touching! Draco should have hexed him the first time he did it, but he was too perplexed to do anything. And secretly, he quite liked the feeling of Potter’s hands on him. It was…pleasant, comforting…safe. Frankly, Potter’s constant show of interest was quite flattering. It made Draco believe that just maybe Potter was serious about him, after all.
His friends pestered him about going out with Potter, too. And they were right, he had a crush on the Golden Boy, though he would never admit it. The possibility of Potter liking him back just seemed beyond reach. So Draco had suppressed his feelings and crushed them in the root. Now, his feelings were surfacing again and blooming stronger than ever.
Granger was nagging him, too. Maybe he should give Potter a chance to prove his intentions. He was a noble Gryffindor, what could go wrong? He was too kind-hearted for anything underhanded. And he was not deterred by Draco’s foul mouth and temper running wild.
He glanced over to the star of his thoughts and startled when he was met with emerald eyes staring at him intently.
Reflexively, Draco sneered and mouthed “Fuck you”.
Potter grinned and blew him a kiss. “Gladly” he mouthed back.
Draco flipped him the bird. But Salazar, he could not resist any longer.
“I think Malfoy’s ready to accept my courting him” Harry said to Ron in satisfaction while he eyed up the blonde.
“What makes you think that?” his friend inquired.
“Just look at him, blushing and grumbling to himself. He likes me and he hates it, but he can’t fight it any longer. His comebacks are getting weaker, and he got used to by presence around him.” Harry smirked, never letting his gaze leave his target.
Ron whistled appreciatively. “How are you going to ask the wanker out, then?”
“Here, watch this” Harry said and stood up, sauntering over to the Slytherin.
“Hey, Draco, I’m no photographer, but I can definitely picture us together” he said and loomed over the armchair that Malfoy was draped on.
“Oh, yeah? Good thing you’re not a photographer, your aesthetic sense is really off.” Malfoy dismissed haughtily, though his reddened cheeks exposed his real feelings.
Harry chuckled. “Aren’t you a snarky brat? I dare you to go on a date with me.”
Malfoy scoffed. “Like I’m gonna fall for that.”
Harry raised an eyebrow – before you ask, yes, he practiced the move in front of the mirror for at least two hours – and sneered, “What, scared, Malfoy?”
He knew he had impressed the blonde when he narrowed his eyes dangerously and snarled, “You wish.”
Harry’s face lit up. “Great, it’s a date, then! Tomorrow, 9 o’clock in front of the gates. Don’t be late! And dress warmly” he gave Malfoy a cheeky grin and ran off back to Ron where he met him in an enthusiastic highfive.
Later that evening Harry realized he had a very grave problem.
„Ron“, he whispered urgently. „I have to talk to you.”
When they were in their dorm and made sure, they were alone, Ron asked “So, what’s up?”
“My date with Malfoy is tomorrow” Harry said desperately.
“Yeah, so?” Ron raised his eyebrows. They had planned it out in great detail, already.
“I have to kiss him!” Harry hissed.
“I know you don’t want to, but you have to, sooner or later. The plan is for you to pretend being his boyfriend, mate.” Ron said, clapping his friend’s shoulder sympathetically.
“That’s not it. I just haven’t kissed a guy before! How do I kiss a guy?” Harry asked, shaking Ron violently as if the answer would tumble out of him.
“How would I know?” Ron cried. “Just like you kiss girls, I guess?”
Harry finally stopped the shaking in favor of burying his head in his hands. “Ron. Which girls have I kissed so far?”
“Cho and Ginny” the read-head answered confused.
“And how did that go?” Harry asked further.
“Well, Cho was crying. And Ginny…well, Ginny is a lesbian, so I think she didn’t like it that much.” Ron mused, his face lightening up in understanding. “I see. You’re shit at kissing.”
Harry nodded miserably. “How will Malfoy fall for me when I can’t kiss him properly?”
“We could, uhm, practice?” Ron offered tentatively, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.
“Ew, Ron!” Harry exclaimed.
Offended the red-head pouted, “It was just a suggestion.”
Harry mulled it over. “But you have Hermione. Isn’t it cheating?” he said hesitantly.
“Nah. You’re a bloke and I’m straight. It’s a meaningless kiss unless you like me like that?” Harry shook vehemently the head. “See? And girls do it all the time to practice, I heard.”
The wild-haired boy sighed. “Alright. Let’s do it.”
“You sure? Now?” Ron asked. He was suddenly very nervous.
“Yeah. Come on, before I change my mind.” Harry puckered his lips.
“Right.” Ron, too, puckered his lips. Then he leaned in, screwing his eyes shut. A few seconds passed by; nothing happened.
Then, Harry pushed Ron away, collapsing onto the floor. “I can’t do it. This is just…ew, ew, ew! We nearly kissed! This is all sorts of wrong!”
Relieved, Ron agreed. “Yeah. I think, I’m scarred for life!”
Harry would have to just wing it, then…
Draco made his way to the meeting point with mixed feelings. Pansy and Blaise had bullied him into going. Draco would have stayed right where he was, preferably all day, without disturbance: in bed under the duvet.
But Blaise had rudely kicked him out of bed, ignoring his screeched protest. Pansy had her wand pointed at his throat, threatening him to get dressed in the smart but cosy clothes she laid out for him. Then, she had incarcerused him to a chair to make his hair and make-up – she insisted he wear silver eyeliner because it made his eyes pop – while Greg calmly fed him pieces of apple pie.
His traitorous friends proceeded to shove him out of the common room, blocking all of Draco’s attempts to sneak back in.
“You will go meet Potter and you will have tremendously fun!” Pansy said sternly. “And you will come back tonight, telling us all the details. I tell you now, Draco, darling: I want juicy details, hot boys love! I want you to kiss him if it’s the last thing that you do! Don’t let me have dressing you up in vain! Do not disappoint me!” With that she turned on her heel, Blaise and Greg in tow.
“Oh! And don’t even think about hiding in the library, dear. Granger is there and she will hex you upon sight.” Pansy winked over her shoulder before the portrait to the common room banged shut.
Ostracized, Draco grudgingly went to meet his “date”. He was pretty pissed off. The nerve of Potter! Just because Draco said he wasn’t afraid did not mean he agreed to dating Potter! He was angry at his friends, too. They saw the truth behind the façade Draco desperately tried to hold up: that he somehow liked Potter. Draco had feelings for the Gryffindor he had buried deep down inside of him, and he was determined to let them stay there. Despite that, Draco couldn’t help but feel nervous in anticipation.
He rounded the corner and there Potter stood in all his glory, casually leaning against the wall. Draco had to admit, Potter looked good. His eyes roamed over the other boy appreciatively before he caught himself.
“Right on time”, Potter called out to him, pushing off the wall to stand in front of Draco smirking.
Draco fidgeted and Potter’s expression softened. He took Draco’s hand and asked, “Ready?”
Somehow soothed by the slight pressure and warmth on his hand, Draco felt he really wanted to give Potter a chance. So he answered softly, “Ready when you are.” Then, he went along willingly wherever Potter pulled him.
As they were eighth years, Draco and Potter had certain privileges like visiting Hogsmeade outside of the regular school-organized weekends. Apparently, Potter had planned to take full advantage of these privilege, because he led Draco to the small town, not letting go of his hand. Draco accepted this, because he had decided to make the most out of the date and because the touch simply felt good.
When they reached the village, Potter made a beeline and led Draco to the secluded area in front of the Shrieking Shack. Draco wrinkled his nose as they approached. That wasn’t a particularly great spot for a date. Was Potter making fun of him?
But when they arrived, there was a pile of wood. Around it were thick picnic blankets and mountains of cushions. Potter snapped his fingers and the wood ignited into a cosy campfire. A slight shiver ran through Draco. Admittedly, Potter's effortless wandless magic was as hot as the fire.
Potter took off his bag and began to pull out various things. Mugs, a thermos, buns and sausages appeared. A closed tin joined them. Curious, Draco opened the tin and peered inside. Inside was a dough that smelled sweet.
"This is dough for stick bread," Potter explained and held out a cup of steaming liquid to him. Draco accepted the cup and took a sip. Chocolate flavour exploded on his tongue. The liquid warmed him from the inside. Humming happily, Draco took a seat next to Potter who was busy skewering sausages on sticks.
He handed the blonde a stick. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked, carefully taking the stick with just his fingertips and looking at it as if it were a slimy toad.
Potter rolled his eyes. "Haven't you ever grilled sausages on a fire?"
Draco shook his head in obvious contempt.
"Of course not. You've probably had everything served to you on silver trays," Potter said with a sneer.
"At least my parents taught me manners, unlike you, you barbarian." Draco snapped back defensively.
Potter's face darkened for a few seconds and Draco blanched, realizing what implications he just made. Then Potter seemed to have composed himself and he smiled at Draco. He picked up his own stick and held it over the fire. "Well, Princess, you're going to have to get your hands dirty today if you want to eat. Come on, hold your stick over the fire like I do." Potter took Draco's hand in his and positioned Draco's stick in the right place.
He turned Draco's hand a little. "You have to turn the stick in between so the sausage gets heat from all sides."
It took Draco a few tries before he finally held a well-browned sausage in his hand. Potter, meanwhile, had already fried and eaten four sausages to perfection. And of course he hadn't left Draco's failed attempts uncommented. Instead of making fun of Draco, he helped him to do better next time.
Pleased to have finally done it, Draco turned to Potter with a broad grin. "Hah! See Potter, I did it!"
The black haired boy was already looking at him. His eyes widened at Draco's open, delighted expression. He quickly glanced to the side and cleared his throat. "Yeah well, good for you. That one spot looks a bit black, though."
"What are you talking about, Potter? The sausage is perfect!" Smugly, Draco ate. The sausage tasted good, better than anything he had ever eaten. Tasting the fruits of his own labour made the taste more intense, he supposed.
"Are you ready up the game a bit?" asked Potter. Suddenly his face was very close to Draco's. His green eyes looked at him intensely. Draco blinked.
"Or do you think it will be too difficult for you?" whispered Potter seductively. Draco swallowed. He wasn't sure if Potter was talking about their 'relationship' or still grilling over the fire.
"Ehm," Draco said cleverly, cursing himself. A Malfoy was never at a loss for words!
Potter raised a hand and played with a curl that had fallen into Draco's face. He brushed the curl behind his ear. "Surely you're not afraid of stick bread?" And the spell was broken.
Draco said indignantly, "Of course not! Bring it on, scarhead" and shook his head, trying to think clearly again.
After Potter had shown him how to wrap the dough around the stick, he leaned over again and whispered in Draco's ear, Draco’s heart sped up. "I can't shake the feeling that you were expecting something else. If that's the case, I'll be happy to oblige. If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I’ll give it right back." He grinned playfully and pursed his lips.
Draco pushed him off him. "I don't kiss on the first date." Potter looked just as disappointed as Draco felt. But it was for the best since Draco did not expect any further dates. Surely, Potter would realize today that they just did not work, the both of them. And Draco had to protect his heart. So, Kissing was out of the question, though he wanted to kiss Potter badly.
Slightly pouting, Potter changed the topic. They talked while making and eating stick-bread. Time went by quickly and Draco found he surprisingly had a good time.
When they finished off all the food, Potter stood up, suggesting walking through the village. He took Draco’s hand again as they roamed the streets.
A flashbulb lit up and Draco went rigid. Frowning, Potter glanced after the quickly retreating reporter. “That’s going to end up in today’s evening news. That gonna be a problem?” The Gryffindor said challengingly.
“I don’t care what people think about you, Potty. But I’m not particularly thrilled of being outed by the media.” Draco snapped, recoiling from Potter’s attempts to touch him.
Potter’s eyes widened in alarm. “Wait. Shit, I’m sorry. You aren’t out yet, right? Is your mum going to be okay with this?”
“All the important people know about my sexuality.” Draco sniffed dismissively. “I just don’t want the whole world to know and laugh at me.”
“They won’t laugh. Not when you’re with me” Potter said confidently.
“Yeah, Saint Potter can’t do any wrong.” Draco sneered. “Is that what I am to you? You’re new charity-project? The poor little Death Eater that your hero-complex urges you to rescue from the homophobic public?”
Harry frowned. “What are you talking about? Surely, you’d take advantage of my status; you’re a Slytherin! Why not use it to calm the public opinion a bit?”
Draco pushed Harry, causing the Gryffindor to stumble. “Well, fuck you, Potter. I don’t need your pity,” Draco spat, cheeks flushing in anger.
Harry got angry, too, now. Why does Malfoy always have to act like an asshole? “What is your fucking problem? We were having a great time together and if it helps fixing your reputation, then all the better! Ungrateful prick!”
“My problem, Potty, is your phenomenal ego! I already owe you. Why do you need to put me in your debt even more? I don't need to be rescued, especially not by you!” Draco shrieked.
“You don’t make any sense! Is it so hard to believe that I’m doing all this because I actually like you?” Harry shouted.
Tears now rolling down Draco’s cheeks, he screamed, “Yes! Because you hate me! You have always hated me. How could you ever like me? How could I ever be good enough for the saviour of the wizarding world?”
Harry stomped over to him angrily and grasped him by the shoulder. “I. Don’t. Hate. You.” he growled out aggressively. Then he kissed Draco square on the mouth. It wasn’t a pleasant kiss. It was too forceful, too irate.
Harry registered the trembling of the boy in his arms. He loosened his unforgiving grip, softened the pressure of his lips. One hand traveled down to sneak around Draco’s waist, the other went up to caress the blonde hair on Draco’s nape. Then, Harry gently pressed his lips against Draco’s. He rejoiced when the other responded by fisting his hands in Harry’s shirt, pulling him infinitesimally closer. Lips pliantly parted when Harry’s tongue begged Draco to give entrance.
With the first, brilliant touch of tongue on tongue, Draco jolted, stepping back quickly. The blonde looked deliciously flushed; his lips swollen, red, and glistening with saliva. Before Harry could attempt to pull him back to assault those lips again, his cheek stung sharply where Draco slapped him.
The blonde turned on his heels and fled towards the castle. Harry could only catch a glimpse of his face which Harry was sure battled between mortification and want.
Later, Harry lay in bed and reviewed today’s events. The date had been fun, to Harry’s own surprise. He was genuinely interested in Draco’s answers to his questions. He didn’t have to fake too much while interacting with the other boy, because they had similar interests. Harry could be himself and surprisingly enjoyed the date. It helped that Draco was nice to look at. Harry had felt drawn in by his eyes that were accentuated by eyeliner, making them big and shiny.
But then it all went down the drain. Somehow Draco was afraid of the public opinion and of Harry pitying him. It all came back, Harry realized, to Draco feeling inferior and unsure of Harry’s feelings. That wouldn’t do. If the plan was going to work, Harry had to assure Draco he liked him, and that Draco was exactly what Harry wanted.
Well, Draco hit the nail on the head. Harry could never truly like him. Though the kiss was nice. Yeah, he hated Draco a little less, now that he knew how good it felt to taste those plush lips. Maybe Harry should kiss him more, until the blonde forgot how to cuss altogether.
Deciding that more kisses definitely were the way to go from now on, Harry fell asleep with a smile, feeling the soft pressure of another’s lips on his, still.
The next day, Harry walked determinedly to the Slytherin table and sat down next to Draco. He put one arm around the blonde’s waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek as if it were a matter of course.
“How is my sweetheart, this fine morning?” he asked cheerfully.
Draco gaped at him for a full minute. Harry patiently waited for him to gain his wits again while rubbing little circles soothingly into Draco’s hip.
The Slytherin closed his dropped jawed and flushed an angry red. “Who do you think you are?” he asked indignantly.
“Your boyfriend, silly” Harry rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.
“You’re not my boyfriend, Potter” Draco screeched, trying to get out of Harry’s hold.
“Of course I am! We kissed yesterday. So I take responsibility and will take care of you, darling”, Harry said matter of factly, tightening his hold on Draco and ignoring his continued stream of curses.
He turned to Draco’s friends who watched with unconcealed glee. “He’s not a morning person, I assume.”
“Nah, he’s always like that” Blaise supplied. “Good luck with our drama queen, Potter!” he winked.
Draco was still spluttering and insulting Harry until Greg shoved a waffle into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed quickly, opening his mouth to begin another tirade, but Greg immediately shoved another waffle in. Draco glared daggers at him, promising murder as soon as he finished eating.
“That’s the only method that works in calming him down”, Greg explained to Harry, shrugging at Draco’s dark looks.
Nodding with a grave and serious expression, Harry said “Yes, I noticed that yesterday too. He shuts up when his mouth is otherwise occupied.” He leered at Draco who jolted and slowed down his chewing. Recognizing the mischievous glint in the green eyes Draco tried to stretch out the time, anticipating what was coming next if his mouth was empty.
Draco swallowed cautiously, and Harry pounced on him. He shoved his tongue between Draco’s lips, snogging the living daylights out of him. Draco didn’t even try to struggle. His brain and body were already turned to jelly, so he sagged against his newly acquired boyfriend.
Finally, Harry let his lips go with a loud ‘pop’. Satisfied by Draco’s dazed look and loss for words, the Gryffindor turned his attention towards more pressing matters: his own breakfast.
Ignoring the gasps, wolf whistles and sniffles that broke out in the Great Hall, Harry loaded his plate with toast, bacon and egg for breakfast. The general hype around Harry had diminished after the students had become accustomed to his presence. Nevertheless, Harry received a few love letters and confessions of love or requests for a photo or autograph every day. Pretending to date Draco would now help him get rid of the most persistent fame-seeking admirers.
"You have to eat, sweetie," Harry said with a quick sideways glance at the quiet blonde beside him. He grabbed a green apple and thrust it into Draco's hand.
Draco ate automatically, still a little unfocused. He looked rather cute nibbling at the apple.
Dating Draco brought all sorts of benefits, Harry thought, and pressed another kiss to Draco's cheek.
The following weeks past in daze for Draco. He was constantly spacing out and thinking of Potter. Well, Harry, like he persisted Draco calling him because they were boyfriends now.
Boyfriends! The nerve of Pot–Harry! His friends and Hermione were thrilled. Draco had to tell them all the details and they had cooed at him like what he said was something adorable and fluffy. His relationship with Harry was anything but. It was annoying, clingy – really, Harry was everywhere! – and it was hot touches and brain-destroying kisses.
It was rather brilliant, and Draco did not have the energy to fight his increasing affection anymore. Harry was admittedly a good boyfriend. He sat with Draco for breakfast and dragged him to the Gryffindor table for dinner. In class he held his respectable distance but when the opportunity to partner up arose, Harry immediately was by Draco’s side and held his hand under the table.
Throughout the day, Draco was randomly accosted and shoved into hidden alcoves to get snogged. Evenings were spend lazing in front of the fireplace, Draco reading ahead for homework while Harry leafed through Quidditch magazines and doing his best to distract Draco. Evenings soon became something Draco was looking forward to throughout the day.
The Slytherin had come to terms with his predicament that was being stuck with the saviour of the wizarding world. He might as well enjoy it. He decided to just go with it for now, it did not seem to do any harm. On the contrary, it even seemed to do his reputation good. He had feared that Harry's crazy fans would lynch him. But the newspaper had surprisingly good things to say about Harry and him. Harry was now the model of forgiveness. Draco, as the saviour's Chosen One, got his own fan club.
His mother expressed her concerns about the publicity the relationship was attracting. But she didn't seem to have anything against Harry. No, she even wrote Draco how pleased she was that he finally got his childhood crush reciprocated.
The only problem was that Draco did not know how to communicate with Harry. Whenever he resolved to be nicer, he ended up mildly insulting Harry. It was the defense mechanism to protect his heart, he supposed. The Gryffindor would sometimes scowl when he went too far. But before Draco worked up the courage to apologize, he was kissed and forgot all about it.
Harry could be snarky, too, Draco learned. He often teamed up with his friends to tease Draco endlessly. Draco gave back as good as he got, but he could not fight off the lot of them. Sometimes, he really hated his friends. When the blonde would inevitably sulk, Harry would hold his hand or give him a treat – he copied that move from Greg – and Draco’s scowl would melt against his will.
Time went by quickly like this and before Draco had realized, it was already Christmas time and Draco had begun to fall a teeny tiny little bit in love.
Christmas-holidays at the Burrow were a chaotic affair, as usual. Since Fred had died, George was now making double the trouble to compensate his brother’s loss. Tears flowed regularly, though because of laughter rather than sorrow. The rare quiet moments were inevitably interrupted by an explosion sooner than later.
Harry fled into the relatively safe space under the kitchen table while Molly cooked lunch, after being chased by flying mistletoes that tickled their victims unless they were kissed. Harry already had to endure sloppy kisses to his cheeks by Molly, Arthur, and to their mutual horror Ron.
Catching his breath, Harry took out the parchment he received that morning. He had taken to writing Draco every day to keep up appearances. Somehow his letters always got very long; Harry had the tendency to ramble. In return, Draco would dutifully answer, albeit with a great lack of enthusiasm. His letters only consisted of a small piece of parchment, containing some honest and short replies to Harry’s questions, a witty comment, or the desperate – and unconvincing – plea to be left alone. The letters never failed to plaster a smile on Harry’s face.
The black-haired boy learned over the last few weeks as Draco’s boyfriend that the blonde used snark as defense mechanism when he did not know where he stood exactly. Also, he was witty by nature. Almost all conversations between the Slytherins were friendly banter, except with Greg. By some unspoken rule everyone talked nicely with him, mostly. By another unspoken rule, there always was one victim the Slytherins teamed up against – mostly Draco. Harry knew now that Draco did not mean the insults he slurred. The Gryffindor wasn’t as angry when Draco slipped up as he used to be.
Harry made himself comfortable in his hideout under the table and opened Draco’s latest reply. It was Christmas Day today and Harry had sent his boyfriend a little present earlier. He’d gifted him with some new Wheezes products, chocolates and an obnoxiously posh looking eagle quill he had seen Draco moon over on a date in Hogsmeade. Also, because Harry could not resist, he’d sent a banana with a little note stating ‘Are you a banana? Because I find you a-peeling’.
Draco’s letter turned out to be a little package that unfolded as soon as Harry broke the seal with the Malfoy crest. Draco’s letters were always posh and dramatic like that. In the package lay a pair of self-heating gloves – Harry felt oddly touched Draco remembered him complaining about the cold when playing Quidditch – and a strange slip of paper. By further inspection, Harry recognized it as a parking ticket. Confused, Harry read the letter.
Harry,
I thought I’d return the favour. Don’t get used to it, I’ll only do it this one time.
Here it goes: Are you a parking ticket?
Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you.
Merry Christmas, scarhead!
Draco
Harry laughed out loud, imagining Draco researching pick-up lines and wander about Muggle London to look for something he wouldn’t know anything about.
Hermione crawled underneath the table, too, breathless and with pink and blue smudges in her hair. Another prank of George’s, most likely.
“What are you smiling about like a lovesick puppy? Did you get a letter from Draco?” She smiled knowingly.
Harry grinned, ignoring the comment about him being anything that entailed ‘love’. “Yeah. He got me a parking ticket. Can you believe it?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s so cute! Draco asked me to help him. I had to explain everything to him, beginning with cars all the way to muggle money!” Hermione exclaimed, gushing.
“Wait, you talk to Draco?” Harry frowned, slightly disappointed that Draco did not wander cluelessly through London. Well, at least he had to interact with muggles in some way. That image alone was hilarious.
“Of course, I talk to him! We meet three times a week to study in the library. Surely, I told you”, Hermione said airily.
„I didn’t know that“, Harry scrunched up his nose. Hermione could have told him. Hell, Draco could have told him! They were boyfriends, after all.
As if reading his thoughts, Hermione tried to soothe him. “I’m sure Draco thought you knew all along. We started our study sessions long before you two got together, and Draco must have assumed I already told you and you were okay with it. I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you,” she added apologetically, flushing in embarrassment.
“That’s quite alright, ‘Mione. I know how you get absorbed in your studies sometimes; I guess it’s natural when Ron and I always tune out when you’re rambling about studying.” Harry grinned at her, she huffed.
“Soooo”, Harry tried not to sound too suspicious. “You’re getting on alright with Mal–uhm, Draco?”
Hermione gave him an odd look. “Why wouldn’t I? He has matured and even apologized to me for all the slurs. You should know he’s changed, you’re dating him.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Just wanted to make sure”, Harry rubbed his neck consciously.
“He even got me a Christmas present, look”, Hermione held out an ancient looking book proudly.
Harry did not know if that book was good thing or not. “Wow, that’s, uhm, great?”
“It’s brilliant! I looked everywhere for this book, and he even got me the super rare first edition,” Hermione crowed.
“Anyway, I assume things with you and Draco are going great. I’ve never seen you so happy as in the last few weeks, Harry. I’m glad you finally worked out your childhood rivalry and found love”, she beamed at him, then crawled out from underneath the table. “I guess, I'll look for Ron and see if he survived George’s latest experiment.”
Harry was left alone to brood under the table. Lost in thought, he skimmed repeatedly over the parking ticket. It was a sweet and thoughtful present; it made his heart flutter. He had to admit that even in between the Christmas chaos at the Burrow, his thoughts often strayed to the blonde. He kind of missed his presence; missed making Draco blush; missed kissing his cute pout away.
When had he become so emotionally invested? Merlin, did he like Draco? According to Hermione, he was well on his way to fall in love with the person he was supposed to hate the most. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone with the plan. Draco wasn’t that bad a person, was he? Harry had got to know another side of him in the past weeks and he could not bring himself to really hate what he saw. Neville was right; if this blew up, Draco was not the only person to get hurt.