Dancing with Fire

On Saturday morning Draco’s woken up by Winky and Dobby both, which can’t be anything good.

“Good morning Master Draco!”

“Today is the first day of December!”

Draco groans, rolls until his face is completely in his pillow so he doesn’t have to deal with their smiling faces. The past week has been quite possibly the longest week of his life.

On Monday, Hagrid lectured them, a long painful experience but it’s now too cold to be outside for a long period of time, and he’d rather listen to the oaf speak than give into Blaise’s demands for a warming charm anyone could cast. Or at least, that’s what he thought until Hagrid had said ‘um’ forty times, ‘right, then’ fifty seven times, and ‘so’ roughly a hundred times. Painful isn’t the right word, but Draco can’t think of anything else to describe Care of Magical Creatures at the moment. 

In History of Magic, Binns decided to keep his classroom too fucking cold so instead of listening to him lecture about trolls, Draco spent the entire time keeping himself and Pansy warm all the while getting glares from Blaise, Millie, and Theo. It’s not his fault they were outside of his warming charm. It’s also not his fault that he’s good at charms. Maybe they should work on their studies instead of spending their spare time glaring at him, or in Millie’s case, napping.

And because that didn’t put him in a bad mood enough, Rita Seeker’s articles about Harry started releasing on Monday. So every damn day at breakfast the papers were released, and every damn day everyone was talking about it by lunch. Monday had been the story about how awful it was for Harry to communicate with such a dangerous beast, which could only mean that (gasp) Harry is dangerous. Because Harry, the idiot who once looked at a big stupid snake and thought ‘she needs help, lets help her’ definitely doesn’t have a heart of gold and is most certainly evil.

On the plus side, he spent his free period practicing the ‘correct usage of minor healing spells’ with Pomfrey, no, Poppy. It was supposed to be something to look forward to, an early lesson to kick start his project, but what he found out is that Poppy is the hardest teacher in the whole school. No questions until she’s done talking, and yes, Draco did try to interrupt her and that’s exactly how he ended up covered in yellow goo on his way to Potions because he didn’t have the fucking time to cast Scourgify until after he was seated and a full minute late.

Speaking of Potions, that’s been a nightmare since he started his quest into Snape’s sex life. Honestly! He shouldn’t be punished for being curious, Severus literally brought this on himself. Sneaking around is bad enough, but the man hasn’t shown an interest in anyone to the point that Draco thought sex, love, and romance just didn’t do it for the man. He remembers a Lily person he was told to never speak of, but besides her it’s been nothing. Less action than Riddle, which is an unpleasant thought to have when staring at the back of your god father who is trying to teach. 

Dinner would have been great if Pansy hadn’t skipped it to work on her formal projects, leaving him completely defenseless in the face of Flint and Cassius who decided that a fucking Monday would be the day to tell the Slytherin Quidditch team that practice would be starting in an hour. Blaise, the fucker, had laughed. So had Millie and Theo, and to be fair Pansy would have laughed too, so at least he had Fleur’s sympathetic smile to hold him until he managed to make it back to his room. And because Blaise is also weirdly sweet sometimes, he lit Draco’s favorite candle before going to bed so the room smelt like green apples and cinnamon. 

On the bad side, Tuesday brought another Skeeter article and Transfiguration. McGonagall had clearly read the papers that morning, and was not happy with it. Draco was right, McGonagall being nice is terrifying, but McGonagall angry is not a sight he ever wants to see again. There’s a good reason that Dumbledore tries to stay on her good side. 

Draco had to listen to the rumors all throughout a horrid DADA until Moody, who surprisingly doesn’t live up to his nickname, dismissed them. He seemed a little too happy given that Skeeter was now bluntly calling Cedric a piece of trash, Krum a Dark Lord, Fleur a fucking monsterus slut, and Harry the only thing worse than the Dark Arts themselves. He still wants to burn her eyebrows off for those last two statements, but Pansy had told him that he couldn’t go to jail until after the ball so he’ll just have to let his mother handle it.

Blaise was fairing just as poorly as he was at keeping his annoyance in check, which is probably why a mysterious smoking Toadstool landed on top of some Ravenclaw’s head only moments after they called Harry a ‘fucking disaster’. And no, Draco did not hide his smile because seeing the asshole cry with smoke in his eyes was fucking hilarious. Plus, Blaise seemed to feel better so there was no harm done, really. 

He usually would have been thankful for Charms, but Flitwick was mad over something, he really has a list to choose from at this point, so they ended up not being able to talk or do spells. Instead they listened to the tiny man rant about proper ways to hold a wand, and though he definitely ignored Draco and his friends passing notes, he was not happy about it. 

An actual happy note did sound when he finally saw Harry again. Stupid idiot cornered him to complain about Ron wanting to ask Hermione to the ball and being sad that she already had a date, laughed at the shit Seeker was spewing, and then squeezed Draco’s arm goodbye. Draco went to dinner, and to run laps with Flint’s overly cheerful ass, feeling slightly better.

But then he had to go through Wednesday morning without being able to ask Hermione about her Ancient Runes charts, or her Ancient Studies notes because his legs were aching the entire time and he could not focus until he got to lunch and was suddenly consumed with annoyance all over again. 

Not actual anger because Harry thought his new, darker and more insulting, nicknames were funny. And Draco had another ‘lesson’ with Poppy that involved knives and a bit of potion brewing. At least this time he didn’t leave with a strange substance on him, and there’s so few people taking Arithmancy that he and Hermione could sneak glances and completely get away with it. 

Things were looking up Wednesday after dinner when the Six Morons, as Pansy likes to call them, met up in the Gang’s Room for some studying and light reading. Well, he and Hermione called it ‘light reading’. Winky called it ‘an excuse to stay up late’, Blaise called it ‘an unhealthy coping mechanism’, and Ron called it ‘disgusting, but in an intellectual way’. 

 And then he had to be up at three on Thursday morning for Astrology, and the course began again, this time with more homework and pop quizzes because how else are teachers going to get out all their pent up anger?

To top things off, Flint and Cassius, the evil little bastards, decided to make the old team ‘brush up on drills’ last night, which is code for torture on a lesser degree, and also means Draco didn’t get back until ten minutes after curfew, was freezing cold, and still had to help Blaise with his Potions assignments.

So yeah, long fucking week, long fucking life, and there’s not a single fucking reason he should be awake at seven in the fucking morning on a Saturday.

Except, it’s the first day of December and that can only mean-

“It’s time for Check Ins!” Winky says cheerfully, like she’s not giving Draco another reason to hide under the covers.

He does, in fact, burrow under the covers. In hopes that she’ll go away so he can do this later.

His hopes are thrown in the garbage and set on fire just for good measure.

“Nightmares?” Dobby asks. If Draco thinks hard enough he can see their little clipboards filled with a list from his mother.

Better to get this over with. “No.”

“Dangerous situations?”

“You know who I am as a person.”

“That’s a yes then...eatings? Yes, I makes sure Master Draco eats enough. Weekly interaction with Master Severus?”

“Yeah, Sev and I are good.” Draco mumbles. He registers Blaise politely asking them to ‘shut the fuck up’, but he might be imaging things.

“Sleepings? Not very well, but-”

“My sleep schedule is fine, thanks.”

He can see it. His eyes are closed and hidden by a silk pillow slip, but he can see Winky’s eyebrow raise and Dobby’s barely contained laughter.  

“Would Master Draco like Winky to fill it out?”

Merlin, no. Winky would be completely honest, and he doesn’t need that at all. 

To save his sanity Draco rolls over and drapes an unbothered LuLu across his eyes.

“All my vitals are normal, I haven’t consumed any illicit substances, Harry is good and says hi, yes he’s still being an idiot but I don’t know what mum expects at this point. Pans is excited to see her and Belle before the Yule Ball, yes Blaise is annoyed by the whole situation, no I haven’t been able to have tea with Dumbledore yet. I started extra classes with Pomfrey for a project, I’m probably going to take Luna to the Yule Ball and she should be getting my letter about Christmas ideas by Wednesday. Is that everything?”

“Yes sir.” Winky says, all professional like she didn’t bring him a hot chocolate spiked with pepper-up at two am. “That is being it for now, I will return later with news from Mistress Narcissa.”

“Thanks, you’re great.” Draco mumbles. He doesn’t even complain when a pillow comes flying his way from across the room. Instead he curls around LuLu and tries to go the fuck back to sleep. 

“Master Draco.”

What now? He’d given his report, LuLu is still asleep, Blaise can and will be throwing a tantrum if they don’t leave soon. What else is left?

“Master Draco!”

“Yes?” He groans, barely keeping his irritation down. He’d learned the hard way that annoying a loyal house elf was never a smart decision.

“You have a meeting with Madam Pomfrey at eight, sir.”

Fucking hell. Draco groans once more, Blaise laughs from across the room, and he resigns himself to the fact that he will not be getting any sleep until Christmas break. 

“You’re taking who?”

Millie looks up from her pudding. She takes a second to swallow, dabs at her chin for suspense, and then smiles. “Did I stutter?”

“No,” Pansy says, all wide eyes and creepy grin. “I just can’t believe you got a date over a week ago and didn’t think to tell me.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t listen to me and Daphne talk at night.”

Draco waves his spoon in front of them. “Hello, can someone please explain? The rest of us are kinda confused.”

The two Slytherin girls blink. Then they finally notice the others sitting around them, Blaise and Theo trying to out-bore each other, Draco and Fleur completely lost to the situation, and Luna, looking deeply into her raspberry cake like it holds the world’s secrets. Millie coughs.

“Sorry, um.”

“What Millie is trying to say is that she’s a back-stabbing friend who promised to tell me if she was even going-which she never did, by the way-and now all the sudden-”

“All of the sudden?!” Millie fires back, “You would know about this if you ever listened to me and your other roommate!”

“Daphne is never there! She’s always off with her sister or flirting with Ravens!”

“Guys…” Blaise draws, “The point of the story, if you please.”

He makes a yelp a few seconds later, if Draco had to guess it’s probably because Pansy stomped on his foot. 

“So,” Millie leans forward, completely ignoring Blaise casually dropping chocolate pudding on Pansy’s sleeve. “There we were, the three of us finally in a room together and Daph starts telling me about this Raven that asked her to the ball, Frodi Axel-”

“Frodi Axel?” Theo giggles, “What type of name is that?”

“He’s Scandinavian, you asshole.”

Fleur cocks her head, “Scandinavian? Why did he not go to Durmstrang?”

“I don’t know.” Millie pauses, “It makes more sense but I honestly have no clue. Anyways, she’s going with him, and started complaining about Pansy not making her dress, so I told her I wasn’t getting one either because I didn’t plan on going, and then she got upset and after listening to her whine I told her I was only going if I got asked, because as much as I want to see Theo sneak in alcohol, I don’t want to babysit all of you all night long because you can’t handle your liquor-”

“I can handle mine just fine!” Draco protests.

Fleur nods through a mouthful of fruit, “True, even as a child Draco has never had problems with alcohol.”

Millie waves her hands, “Quit interrupting! I’m trying to tell you a story!”

“A tale of lies,” Pansy adds in, apparently over her and Blaise’s miniature war. Blaise is brushing off a bit of fruit tart, he has a bit of whipped cream on his nose.

“A tale you missed because you were busy in your own world more like it.” 

The girls glare for a second more before Pansy huffs and Millie continues with a triumphant smile.

“So, a few days after Daph found out I wasn’t going, this Durmstrang boy approached me, I think his name is Ezlik? Eddie? Erick? Something with an E-”

“You don’t know his name?” Theo gasps. 

Draco grins, “Well, you don’t need a name to have a good time.”

“Exactly.” Millie bumps his shoulder, “All I need to know is the E part. And Mister E is very attractive, so of course I said yes when he asked me. I told Daph, when the three of us were getting ready for bed, but apparently someone wasn’t listening!”

“I was busy!” Pansy defends.

Fleur reaches over the table to poke him, “Who are you going with?”

“Luna.” Draco sighs, “She needs someone in fourth year or higher to take her and I don’t want her missing out. She’ll love the decor.”

“I’m going with your friend Alice,” Blaise winks. Fleur does not see this as a winking matter.

“Alice? When did you ask her? Why has she not told me?”

“I only asked her after lunch, she’s very sweet and told me my French is awful but cute enough to spend the night with.”

Fleur glares, Draco’s rather impressed. His cousin’s glare is almost as good as his. “If you defile her I will be very cross with you.”

“Please, Blaise may talk a big game but he’d never defile anyone.”

“Pansy is right, consent is very important to me. I was taught to sleep with men for their money and keep their wives as close friends.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” Draco frowns. “Our mothers are very close friends you know.”

Blaise chuckles, “Don’t worry. Narcissa would kill them both, plus your father isn’t my mum’s type.”

“Rich? Nice hair? Good teeth?” Pansy supplies.

“No, just too much of a raving lunatic at times.”

Theo looks between the two of them like Draco might make a scene, but he just smiles. “You’ve got him there.”

“Anyways,” Theo says a little forcefully, “I haven’t gotten a date yet.”

“Me either. I’ve been so busy making clothes that I forgot a date was supposed to be a part of my ensemble…” Pansy gives Theo a calculated look. “You dress up nicely, don’t you Theo?”

Theo returns her grin, Draco has an urge to vomit. “I’m flattered, dearest, but you should know that I-”

“You’re gay, yes, I know. I don’t care about that, but Luna is probably going to spend the evening with her special friend, which means I’ll be stuck keeping Draco company, so you’ll be free to do whatever. All I need is someone to walk in with a matching suit.”

“A free suit, made by the Queen herself?”

Pansy smiles sweetly, “I do love charity work.”

“Fine.” Theo snorts, “We’re all sorted then.”

And yes, the Slytherins are all good to go. Always prepared, always glamorous, always a show stopper. It’s the other idiots Draco’s suddenly worried about. 

“Dates?” Fred asks later that evening.

They’ve all gathered in the Gang’s Room for another dance practice. The Yule Ball is three weeks away, but next week is Exam Week and Draco and Hermione originally met up to study, yet somehow here they are. Quizzing each other while waltzing. 

“Ehwaz?”

Draco spins her, “Partnership. Eihwaz?”

“Defense.” She replies, coming seamlessly back into his arms. “We’re going to get Os on the Ancient Runes, it’s Potions I’m worried about.”

“You’re telling me. I’ve got Potions covered, it’s McGonagall’s end of year project that’s going to kill me.”

Hermione laughs, nearly bumping into Ron and Pansy, “That’s because you’ve decided to become Pomfrey’s torture toy.”

“Dates, people!” Harry calls out from where Luna is leading him. “Ron and I don’t have dates!”

“You have a date?” Blaise asks his dance partner, George. 

“Yep. Fred is going with Angelina, I’m taking Tiffany Moon.”

“I thought Tiffany was a lesbian?” Hermione calls.

George grins back, “She is.”

Instead of wondering down that rabbit hole, Draco pauses with Hermione mid-step. “Harry, Ron, do you two really not have dates?”

Harry falters with Luna, Ron stops his weird try-not-to-step-on-Pansy’s-toe act. “Um...we kind...forgot?”

“Forgot? You’re one of the Champions!” Draco cries.

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Harry, weren’t you listening to McGonagall when she told you about the Champion’s dance?”

“The what now?”

Blaise collects himself from George, which means Fred leads Millie over to their area and the entire group of them get to listen to Blaise’s boring explanation.

“The Champion’s Dance, you nuisance, is a customary dance that occurs every Yule Ball. Before anyone else is allowed to dance, or even eat for that matter, the three- in this case four- Champions of the Triwizard Tournament must perform a dance. In front of everyone. Which you cannot do without a partner.”

Harry’s jaw drops. Then he turns to Hermione with hopeful eyes.

“Nope. I already have a date, and for the record, this is exactly what I meant when I said you procrastinate too much.” 

“I thought you were talking about homework!”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you have a date?” Ron stutters. He looks oddly put out, which is interesting considering he seriously doesn’t have a date. Which isn’t a big deal to Draco, but is a big deal to Pansy.

“Listen here, you little shit. I did not spend hours fixing those hideous things you call dress robes for you not to have a date. You are going to get one. Dance until your feet are bleeding. And when everyone asks where you got your robes from, you will tell them it was the best seamstress in all of England, do you understand me?”

Ron gulps. “Yes ma’am.”

“What about Parvati? She’s nice.” Fred says.

“Or Ginny, you do still need a date don’t you?”

Ginny shakes her head, “I bullied Neville into taking me so I could dance with Luna when he gets tired.”

Luna beams at her, Draco sighs. He knew this would happen. Pansy knew this would happen. Hell, when he asked Luna if she wanted to go Luna probably knew this would happen. 

“I’d say take Astoria, but Daph would kill me.” Millie pipes up.

“Nah, he’d be better off with someone like Susan Bones if he’s going out of house.”

“Which he won’t” George grins.

Ron looks definitely put off. “I’d take anyone at this point.”

“Anyone?” Blaise and Draco ask at the same time. He looks at them like they’re insane, which only encourages them further.

“Because if that’s the case,” Draco can’t stop himself from smirking. “You could always take Myrtle.”

“No! No way! Over my dead body!”

They all laugh at that, except for Harry who’s weirdly quiet. Draco wants to ask him about it, but a room full of people might not be the best time.

“You have to take someone, or Pans might kill you.” The twins say.

“Harry,” Hermione begins in her mum voice, “You need someone too. You’ll be forced to stand there awkwardly and dance with McGonagall if you don’t.”

Harry shivers at that, making a pathetic excuse for a laugh and then says something to clearly indicate that he’s unhappy with the whole situation. “Can we study now? I need to pass my History of Magic exams and I never learn anything from Binns.”

Just like that dance time is over and Hermione is herding them all to the tables. 

“No.”

“Please.” Theo pleads, “I’d owe you my life, Draco.”

Draco rolls his eyes. A Nott in his debt would be great, but he already has a Nott in his debt. A rather clingy one too. “I said no, Theo. I’m not going to kiss you.”

“Why not?!” Theo barks. He lowers his voice so the entire hallway can’t hear their little argument as they make their way to breakfast. “Think about it, I have no experience, you have no experience. I’m meeting up with Justin after the ball, you’ll probably find your way into a broom closet with Pott-ow!”

“Will you knock it off.” Draco hisses. “There is nothing between me and him of all people.”

Theo snorts, still clutching his side. “Sure, and I’m as straight as Elton John.”

“Who?”

“Don’t worry about it, the important thing is that we’re both too hot to not snog after the ball, we both like blokes, so why not learn how to please before it actually matters.”

Draco’s nearing his frustration peak. The top of his left eyebrow is going to start twitching any second now, and he still doesn’t know if Nott’s being serious or trying to get him to admit that he does have a ridiculous something for Harry. He’s saved from responding by someone calling his name. 

They both turn to look, seeing Cedric Diggory coming their way, waving and calling his name once more. 

“Hey!” He says once he’s in front of them. “You got a second?”

Draco nods, “Sure.” Then he turns to Theo, “Tell Pans and Blaise that I’ll be there in a second.”

Theo nods and slinks away like a defeated puppy, not that it matters to Draco. He’s a little busy following Cedric to a deserted hallway.

“You know, I don’t mean to pry, but it’s a little strange for a Huffle to be so secretive.”

“Just like it’s strange for a Snake to cozy up with a Lion?”

Draco freezes on the spot, but Cedric just laughs. “Figured that one out this summer at the World Cup. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I actually just wanted to give you his broom.”

“His Broom?” Draco says smartly, like his entire everything isn’t riding on the secrecy of his and Harry’s relati- friend ship. 

Cedric holds out his hand, whispers ' accio firebolt’ and ten seconds later Harry’s broom in before them. “I can’t give it back to him myself, it’ll be too obvious that I borrowed it from him and I don’t want anyone to accuse us of cheating, so I figured I should give it to someone he trusts.”

“And why would Harry Potter trust me?”

Cedric just sighs, hands out the broom that Draco does take, and then smiles. “Because you’re not your reputation, Malfoy. Not with how much time you’ve been spending with Luna out in public. How you treat Fleur, the way you looked when Harry’s name was called is exactly how NaHui looked when my name got called.”

“NaHui?”

Cedric scratches the back of his head, “Sorry, Cho. She’s, well...the best to ever happen to me. But that’s besides the point. Look, just. Give Harry his broom, please.”

Draco wants to refuse on the sheer fucking principle, but Cedric is starting to leave so instead he grabs the kid’s cloak. Cedric is nice. Cedric kept Fleur from killing Harry on the night the Champions were announced. Draco owes Cedric.

“If we’re trading advice, watch out for that William kid.”

“Willie?” Cedric snorts. “He’s perfectly harmless.”

Doubtful, but who is Draco to argue with his upperclassmen? On the Sunday before Exams? When he has a study session with Hermione in ten minutes? He’s no one.

Exam week nearly kills him. 

The temperature drops something awful on Monday, some sort of overnight storm leaving snow-filled everything and miserably freezing students. There’s snow outside, inside, on people’s hair, leaking into their bags, ruining their essays when it melts under a warming charm. Ruining Draco’s first draft of his Transfiguration essay. Yes, he’s fucking pissed about it.

Monday begins at 9:45 sharp for his Astronomy exam, followed by Charms and a brief lunch break that quickly turns into a study break for the end of the day DADA Exam. By time Dinner rolls around, Draco’s dead to everything but his notes. Blaise and Pansy steer him to the Gang’s Room, where he becomes aware of Hermione’s notes and some voices around them.

“Are they okay?”

“Don’t touch them yet. At ten Pansy will take away their papers and I’ll steer Draco to the showers and to bed.”

“I can probably get Gin to take care of ‘Mione.”

“Or Lavender, her and Parvati have always been sort of motherly.”

“No, they just like sleeping. Which you do too, Ron.”

Draco tunes them out from there and does protest something fierce when a manicured hand removes his notes. “Hey! I wasn’t done with that!” He roars, turning around to glare.

Only Pansy is nowhere to be seen, and he ends up staring right at Harry curled up in one of the armchairs. That softens him up, partly because fuck that’s cute, but also because he’s very tired and would very much like to go to sleep now. 

“You’ve been quizzing me on History facts so much it hurts. I’m going to bed now, are you coming or staying until I have to drag you?” Blaise sounds like he’s two seconds from falling over, so Draco nods. 

“Go ahead, I’ll be there in a second.” He then ignores whatever his best friend is saying so he can walk over to Harry and gently lay an arm on his shoulder. Shaking lightly, brushing his hand down a bicep, Draco whispers his name until green eyes flutter open.

“Hi.” Harry smiles at him, all soft and lazy. “You don’t look like a zombie anymore.”

“Afraid not,” Draco chuckles, “My skin is a little too perfect for that. Rotting flesh and maggots don’t do it for me.”

Harry yawns back, “You’re skin is pretty perfect. A little on the pale side, though.”

Draco bites his tongue so he doesn’t do something stupid like call Harry beautiful. He is though, all caramel skin and pretty eyelashes. Fuck, Draco really needs sleep. He shakes Harry just a bit more.

“Come on, sleeping beauty, we all need to go to bed. Can’t fail that Herbology test in the morning.”

“Plants are cool,” Harry agrees. They stand up and walk to where Blaise and Ron are waiting, Pansy and Hermione behind them. Draco hands Harry off to Ron, hugs Hermione goodnight, and then lets his own friends tug him down to the dungeons.

He gets a grand total of six hours of sleep before he’s dragging himself out of bed and to breakfast. Theo, surprisingly an even bigger plant person than Blaise gushes about how excited he is. “I’m a plant gay, you know?”

Draco does not know, but the written exam for Herbology doesn't matter nearly as much as the 

Practical exam, so he hangs onto Theo’s every word for dear life.

Once Herbology is over, it’s History of Magic. Given that his family library holds more information than Binns himself, Draco’s not particularly worried over it. Lunch is easier knowing Potions is next, and yes, Snape is still irritated about Draco’s sudden interest in his sex life. But, Potions is one of Draco’s favorite subjects. And he makes a point to be fucking perfect just to make his god father proud.

But then it’s back to the Gang’s Room because on Wednesday they all have Transfiguration. The last core class, and in Draco’s opinion the hardest because McGonagall is an even harder grader than Snape. 

After a brutal Transfiguration Exam that leaves him a little confident and a little dazed, Draco marches on to the Care Of Magical Creatures Exam, which he knows he passed, but he’s at best hoping for an E. He really has no idea what’s happening in Hagrid’s mind, but it doesn’t matter because the after lunch exam is Ancient Studies, and then he and Hermione have to meet up and study for Thursday.

Thursday, like the rest of the week, is hell. Bright and cold and early, Draco sits his Ancient Runes exam, and then spends the rest of his day studying for Arithmancy.

As soon as that’s done he doesn’t even eat. He blinks once in the classroom and then he’s being cornered by a girl that looks a lot like Daphne, only she’s wearing Ravenclaw robes, so it must be Astoria.

“I’m sorry,” Draco slurs, “You’ve caught me at a rather bad time, what were we talking about again?”

Astoria sighs, like it pains her greatly to repeat anything she’s said. To be fair, if she wasn’t from such a powerful family, he’d be sighing in the exact same way. “Look, Malfoy. I heard from Luna that you’re a decent fellow, so I’m offering you a trade.”

“A trade?” Draco tries to focus on her words. What could a Greengrass possibly want with him? Their families are equally powerful, almost on friendly terms, kinda. At least Narcissa doesn’t make an effort to talk shit about them.

“Yes, a trade. It’s rather simple. I just need you to take me to the Yule Ball.”

That wakes him up. “Excuse me? Why would you want me to take you to the ball? I’m taking Luna. And I’m a Slytherin.”

Astoria rolls her eyes, “Yes, I’m perfectly aware what house you belong to. The very house that my family wanted me in, this is the entire point. You take me to the ball, it makes my family happy, it makes your family happy. We part ways after a few photos as business friends in the future.”

“But...why?”

“I need to make a name for myself if I ever want to prove my worth to my parents, and I’m about sick of them undermining me. Even Daph is annoyed by it. So, will you help me or not?”

She speaks way too fast for him to fully comprehend, but he nods and smiles anyways. Having a Greengrass in his debt would be beautiful, especially if he could use the chance to lure them to the light side. And if he goes with Astoria, Harry can take Luna. That’s like three birds, one stone. Perfect.

“Yeah, sure I’ll take you to the ball.”

“Wonderful, you should um...” She takes a second to cover her mouth, but just because Draco can’t see her laughter doesn't mean he can’t hear it. “Get some sleep, Malfoy.”

“Yes, yes, you too.”

He’s not fully aware of what he’s just done, but he’ll work it out later.

“You can’t keep doing this year after year.”

“Doing what?”

Ron gives him a look. “Worrying. It’s only been a day, mate. We both know he gets exactly like Hermione. Give him another five hours, Blaise will probably drag him down to the room. If he’s not there by the time Hermione resurfaces, then we worry.” 

Yeah, okay. Sounds reasonable, if Draco didn’t look like a zombie this past week Harry might even buy into it. Only, Draco looked worse than Hermione. Or maybe that’s because Hermione’s dark skin sometimes hides her bags, and Pansy’s been leaving her little scrunchies that she turns red and gold so her hair doesn’t get as messed up and abused. Bags show up on Draco’s pale skin like ink on parchment paper. His hair is falling a little above his shoulders, which means for the past week Harry’s had to watch him twirl and twist the pale gold locks as he studied. 

It’s been pure fucking torture. 

But not as awful as watching him cling to Blaise’s side while Blaise tries to force him into the Gang’s Room.

Granted, Blasie looks torn between disgusted and amused, and Draco falls from his arms to Hermione’s shoulder, so it’s not all that bad. Hermione likes Ron, or maybe Krum now, either way there’s no possible emotions for Draco so Harry’s very happy with the trade off. He shakes himself for being jealous of Blaise, and then turns to discuss the following week when Pansy bursts through the door.

“I have news!”

“News?” Draco mumbles. “You can’t have news, it’s not breakfast time.”

Pansy rolls her eyes, but does take a second to pat her best friend on the head. “Well, you’re right. We can call this a late night segment.”

“Will you get on with it?” Ron groans. He gets a single manicured nail salute before Pansy continues.

“So there I was, the only Slytherin in our year at breakfast,” Pansy makes a point of glaring. Draco’s too out of it to notice, Blaise just doesn’t care. “And who came to rid me of my lonesome? Why Fleur, off course. And apparently, she’s finally gotten a date, and I asked if she knew what she wanted her dress to look like yet, and she said ‘no’, so I threw around a couple of suggestions, and she asked me to make her dress!”

“Did you say yes?” Hermione asks, she’s been raging about how excited she is for her dress since exams ended. 

“Of course I did! And since I’m now making Fleur’s dress, I offered to make Luna’s. Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘Pansy, you just finished exams and making outfits for our entire group, now you’re adding two more dresses?’ And the answer, my dear idiots, is yes. But not just two dresses, no, I have bigger aspirations than that.”

Ron shares a wide-eyed look with him. Harry gets it, he’s also a little scared. Draco’s starting to wake up, Hermione seems thrilled, Blaise rolls his eyes.

“So, since I’m already making two of the Champion’s outfits, word spread. And by lunch Cho Chang had asked me if I had any suggestions for her, so naturally I offered to hand select their outfits, because I’m wonderful and kind and the best seamstress ever. I’d like to be able to make them too, but Cho wants something traditional and I have no time left. I also offered to make Krum's, it’d be rude not to, and though he didn’t accept because he’s going traditional, I did find out his color scheme so I can make sure the two of you match, Hermione. Which reminds me, you!”

She turns her full force glare on Harry, narrow eyes turning to slits. “Get. A. Date. Or I will make you look like a clown. Do you understand me?”

“Take Luna.” Draco yawns, finally sitting up instead of using Hermione’s lap like a pillow. 

“I thought you were taking Luna?” 

“I was, but Astoria Greengrass wants to use me to make a point. She’s a lesbian, Pans, I promise we’ll end up dancing before the night is done so please don’t make that pout at me when I’ve only just woken up.”

“I’m not pouting,” Pansy pouts, “This information just would’ve been nice to know before I planned out Luna’s dress to match your tux. It’s fine. I can do a few modifications. I’ll bully Daph into telling me Astoria’s measurements, and Harry, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you and Luna look just as lovely as the others.”

“But.” Harry blinks. “I didn’t say yes to taking her.”

“Do you have anyone else?” Draco asks.

“No.”

Pansy smiles, “Great. You’ll be taking Luna.”

Harry spares one long look at Draco before he deflates. “Yeah, okay. I’m taking Luna.”

“Great! Now that that’s solved, someone tell me when we’re doing presents, because I’m going to need the entire Christmas day to get ready, and I refuse to do it after. I was thinking the twenty-fourth? Possibly the twenty-third?”

“No, no. The twenty-fourth would be best. That way you have enough time to finish your dresses and don’t have to rush,” Hermione answers, “Now all we need is a time and-”

Harry tunes them out, turning to Blaise who offers a game of exploding snaps that Harry is more than happy to play.