Thinking about Hogwarts is like preparing for a battle. Which of course, was always in the back of Harry’s mind. Not any new battles, no. The one last year against Voldemort and his death eaters. There were things that still scared Harry about the battle of Hogwarts. The Sytherins at school and their parents, sometimes. Even Draco Malfoy, who he was always neck-to-neck with. Draco seemed to hate Harry, ever since they had both gotten off the train, across the lake, and into the school itself. Harry had probably pissed him off on the train. He felt as if he could be a real git sometimes. But it was the beginning of eighth year, and Harry looked forward to, well, nearly everything about the wondrous school.
1.The way Dean and Seamus skirt around each other. Everyone and their half-sister knows that they love each other way closer than a normal friendship is. They’ve been pulling this crap since third year, and this year, Harry would make sure he got them together.
2.Hermione and Ron. His best friends, who were both napping in the train seats next to Harry.
3. The Quidditch team. No matter what adventure Harry was preoccupied with, there was always Quidditch to come back to. Quidditch never left.
4.The food. The Dursleys barely fed him over the summers he spent with them.
5. Magic. How using magic always felt and looked and feeled. It wasn’t something he got to feel all the time.
6.Ginny and Luna. Of course, Harry could’ve given Ginny the seventh spot on his list, but no one could imagine Ginny without Luna or Luna without Ginny. They’re inseparable, in their own little sunshine way of things.
7. Hagrid. No explanation needed.
8. The feeling of a real home. Even with Hufflepuffs who still blamed him for Cedric Diggory’s death, and Slytherins conspiring against him with Voldemort, Hogwarts was the most of a home he had ever had except for the Burrow.
The list only goes up to eight. It's seven less then the things Harry looked forward to during the summers before and after Hogwarts.
1.The three weeks at the Burrow.
The way things worked for Harry is that he's always waiting to get to the good times. He'll be occasionally excited for potions because he and his friends made plans to play Quidditch during lunch. A Divination class before dinner. The boring parts of the muggle movie Hermonie dragged him to. Then they had gone to a muggle Theme park. The rollercoaster was like flying.
Harry turns back to his dozing friends. Even in sleep they seemed like a couple. Hermione's hand was intertwined with Rons. Ron was leaning towards her, so that his head was near her left shoulder. Hermione smiles in her sleep, and moves closer to Ron.
Out of the train window, Harry can see Hogwarts. He can almost hear the giggles of first years rushing around with their new friends, and the slightly drunken stumbles and stammering of the seventh and eighth years.
They zoomed into the station, the wheels stopping with a little squeak. It had jolted Ron and Hermione awake. The couple blinked sleepily at Harry as he led them off of the train and into a carriage. Nearly all of the students that had fought through the battle could see the Thestrals pulling them to the wizardry and witchcraft school. Harry looked for Headmistress McGonagall.
Ever since Dumbledore had died, McGonagall had made changes to the school. Harry had gotten an owl letter about it. First through seventh years slept in their house dormitories, but eight years of all house were all together in one big dorm. It was probably for house bonding, so that there wasn't so much of a rivalry after the war. The eighth years were free to visit and hang out at their house dorms, but they couldn't sleep there.
It was a creative idea, but Harry couldn't imagine sharing a dorm with anyone else but his friends.
The Thestrals pulled up to Hogwarts. The first years had eagerly beaten them, ready for the Sorting Hat. Harry, Ron and Hermione wandered into the hall, not needing a guide to the dining room. It wasn't the makeshift medbay anymore, and Harry looked up at the ceiling. Thunder rolled across, making it feel as if the hall was out in an open field in a thunderstorm.
Students looked and whispered about him, as usual, but Harry sank into the seat beside Seamus. The Irishman offered him the Yorkshire pudding before he shyly passed it across the table to Dean. Harry didn't take any. He was to nervous about what McGonagall was going to say about the war, about him, even. He hated when people put him in these type of situations, where all eyes are on him and he doesn't know what to say.
Harry clapped politely when a little girl was sorted into Hufflepuff, then when the brown haired twins were sorted into Gryffindor. They both had mischievous grins, and it made Harry miss Fred terribly. Ron was swiping at his eyes, along with Ginny. Harry patted Ron on the back to comfort him. Unfortunately, Ron had a mouthful of pudding, and Ron started to choke.
"Ron? Mate, you okay?" Dean asked. Ron was grabbing at his throat.
"Ronald," Hermione scolded. "Stop making such a scene!"
Harry put his hand up, as if he were going to ask a question.
"Yes, mister Potter?" McGonagall turned to Harry. So did everyone else.
Harry cleared his throat. "Ron's choking, Headmistress."
Ron stopped breathing then. "Does anyone know the Himelich manuver?" Hermione called. Blank stares answered her. The Himelich was a muggle thing, and this was dinging hall for wizards and witches and people who could do extraordinary things, yet no one could save poor Ron Weasleys life. Harry groaned.
Ron's face began to change color. Someone stepped up.
"Move out of my way," Draco Malfoy pushed through the crowd of Gryffindors surrounding Ron. He easily picked Ron up and began the process. It was the strangest thing he had ever seen Ron or Malfoy do. Where the glob of pudding went, Harry didn't want to know. Malloy slicked back to the Slytherin table and Ron fell to the ground, complaining of broken ribs and a bruised ego. Madame Pompfrey took him up to the little hospital, and the Sorting continued. Harry and the rest on the Gryffindors cheered for their new first years.
Fortunately none of professors decided to talk about the war, and Hermione and Harry went up to the new eighth year dorms. It was huge, a common room and then eight hallways leading to dorms. The girls were on the right and the boys on the left. Harry, Dean, Seamus and Neville walked down the boys Gryffindor hallway, and opened a door that looked awfully like their old one. It was scorched after one of Seamus's potions mishaps.
The boys entered, and Harry grinned. Somehow, they were back in their own room up in the tower. Their bags were stored under beds and robes in drawers, and labeled wand cases on the little desk, along with paper and five quills. Deans sketchbook was on Seamus's bed where he has left it after he went into hiding, and the old birdcage of Hedwig's was still by Harry's bed. He didn't have the heart to take it down. It was a memory of a happier time, plain and simple.
The boys each laid down in their own beds, well, Seamus in Deans bed,with Ron's still empty. Harry hoped that Ron was okay, because he couldn't survive a day with Malfoy one hallway over. He couldn't even survive a night with the blond git.
Dean was sketching Seamus, and Neville was reading, and Harry was about to doze off when Ron stumbled in. Ron knocked into a bed post, then landed face down in his bed.
"Ron?" Harry asked.
"I don't want to bloody talk about it." Ron grumbled.
Harry closed his eyes and attempted to get some sleep.
There was a fifth table when Harry went down to get some breakfast. He blinked his eyes once, twice and it was still there. He walked to the Gryffindor table to sit down, but it wouldn't let him.
"Mister Potter, please if you will, come have a seat at the eighth year table." A house elf said. The house elf was carrying a tray of Harry favorite breakfast foods, and Harry's stomach grumbled.
"Alright then." Harry let the house elf lead him to the new table. Harry sat down, and the house elf placed the tray down in front of him. The poor little house elf bowed to Harry, functioned over his own feet trying to get backfire kitchens.
Harry took a sip of pumpkin juice, enjoying the morning. The roof was a cloudy sky, with the pink shades of dawn peering through.
He noticed Draco walk into the hall, and Harry speared a blackberry with his fork.
"Yes, it's real," Harry called. Drake was still standing there, staring at the new table.
"Suppose it's for the eighth years, yes?" Draco mumbled as he sat across from Harry. A house elf placed a breakfast tray in front of the blonde.
"Thanks," Draco smiled kindly at the house elf, and the girls blushed before excusing herself.
"What do you think of the new arrangements?" Harry started the conversation. If he and Draco planned to be civil, then they should be friends too.
"Can't say I'll miss the first years opening the wrong doors to their dorm rooms," Draco smiled.
Harry chuckled. "Don't think I'll be missing the first years at all."
"Really? You don't love being fawned over? Oh, Harry, will you help me with my homework? Will you sign my poster of you?"
"So you admit to having a poster of me?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Interesting."
"Well, I didn't," Draco huffs. "I believe Crabbe did."
By the time Harry had finished eating, everyone else had sat down in the dining hall, and he and Draco were still smiling at each other. Ron sat next to Harry, and Hermonie next to Draco. Blaise Zabini was on Draco's other side, along with Pansy Parkinson. Seamus sat next to Harry, and Dean next to Seamus.
McGongall came by their table. "I see that you've found the eighth year table, eh? Well, I hope you like where you're sitting, because you'll be there all year." McGonagall winked at Harry then walked away.
Ron groaned. "Should've sat somewhere else," Ron threw a dark look at the mark on Draco's arm. Draco covered the Dark Mark with his robes, his eyes downcast.
"Ron, don't be a git." Harry snapped before Hermonie could. "He saved your life, you know."
"Don't remind me." Ron said, then muttered,"Should've let me die."
"Ronald Weasley!" Hermonie shook her finger at him. "Be nice! I'm not going to tell you again!"
Ron looked down at his hands. Harry caught Draco's eye and grinned at him. Draco smiled back.
"Draco, did you get any sleep?" Pansy leaned across Blaise to ask.
"Not really," Draco answered.
"Are you having trouble sleeping? I've probably got a potion to help with that." Hermonie offered.
"I don't need you help," Draco snapped. Blaise nudged him, and Draco apologized to Hermonie. Harry knew that she wouldn't take it personally. She would proably find a logical reason for why he yelled at her like that.
"Draco, should you tell them why you don't sleep or should I?" Pansy sneered.
"Chill, Pansy, I'll tell them," His voice was haughty. It wasn't a voice that Harry particularity liked on Draco.
"Get on with it, then," Blaise urged.
Draco turned to the confused Gryffindors. "The Malfoy house has always been able to communicate through dreams," Draco started. Hermonie looked interested, and there were potatoes in Ron's mouth Harry hoped that Ron didn't choke again. "We can communicate with other Malfoys, and with-uh-people we love or care for, or someone who loves and cares for us."
Hermonie nodded along. "And you're not getting any sleep because your father is trying to contact you."
"Yeah," Draco said. "I can usually block him out, but it's easier to not go to sleep at all."
"Bloody hell," Ron gulped down his juice. "That's tough, mate."
"It beats having my father in my dreams, trying to convince me to break him out of Azkaban." Draco stood up and walked to the eighth year dormitories. Since Ron was the one with a bottomless stomach, not Harry, Harry was full. He waved bye to everyone-Seamus and Blaise were in a heated argument about the Holyhead Harpies, so they didn't notice-and ran up to the dormitories.
Draco was sitting on one of the green couches surrounding the fireplace, and Harry sat in the golden armchair next to him. Their classes didn't start for another week, mainly because there wasn't an Advanced Potions teacher yet.
"I suppose you want something, Potter." Draco said.
"Is..is sleeping easier if you're near someone?" Harry asked. He was sort of volunteering himself, because bloody hell, Draco needed a good fifteen hours of sleep.
"It works with physical contact," Draco turns so that he's looking at the fabric of the couch, not Harry. He doesn't want to look at Harry, no no no. If he looks at Harry, he'll look into those green, green eyes and he might shatter. Harry might break him with a look, because Draco's beginning to fall for him.
"Scoot over." Harry hopes he won't regret this. He doesn't want regret whatever he and Draco have. He wants to savor it, to take it all in and save itas a memory he look back to and smile.
"Why should I?" Draco says, but he has already made room on the couch for Harry. It's like he's made room in his life for Harry, starting with breakfast and this old, weathered green couch.
"You've already made room, Malfoy." Harry sinks down onto the fabric couch, and he rests his head on the silver pillows. The couch isn't made for two people not-cuddling together, so Draco has an arm splayed across Harry's chest, and Draco's head is resting on Harry's shoulder. Malfoy is falling asleep, and Harry can't help but notice ho good his hair smells. A little bit like baked apples and cinnamon. It's a fluffy too, Malfoy stopped putting hair products in after the Battle of Hogwarts. It makes him look like a teenager, not the haughty heir to the Malfoy Manor. Not that Harry minded that he was a heir of something, it just that he wouldn't invite Hermonie to the Manor if he were Malfoy, which he's not. He probably wouldn't be a Malfoy, and if he and Draco ever got married, they would probably hyphenate. Not that they would ever get married.
Marrying Malfoy shouldn't be something Harry thinks about in his spare time.
But it is, and Harry can't help it.
As much as Harry hated to admit it, he does think about marriage quite a lot. Weddings, honeymoons,family and friends there. Mr. Weasley would walk him down the aisle, of course. Do grooms walk down the aisle?
If he and Malfoy got married, who would walk down the aisle? Or would they both be blindfolded so they can't see each other until the wedding starts?
Harry and Draco aren't even dating and Harry is already planning a wedding.
Harry falls asleep as he is deciding who to invite to his future wedding.
After a post-breakfast game of Quidditch, the eighth years go to their common room. All of the houses have a little designated spot. The Ravenclaws enjoy the library area, equipped with comfy loveseats, beanbags and couches. The Hufflepuffs can be found on the balcony. The balcony has succulents and other plants, and a view of the Quidditch field, where they cheer for their House during Quidditch training. The Slytherins and the Gryffindors alike sit around the fire, passing around pieces of Honeydukes chocolate and a bottle of Firewhiskey. Hermione is the one who notices the sleeping boys first, and she nudges Pansy. Pansy tells Blaise, and Blaise tells Seamus until both houses know that the two are cuddling.
It's sweet until they wake up, around nine pm. Everyone is sitting in a half-circle around the fireplace, and as Harry fixes his glasses, Draco Spain's off the couch and sits next to Pansy and Blaise on green and silver bean bags.
"So, Draco," Pansy begins, smirking.
"No." Draco sneers at her. "It's not what you think, Pansy, don't be rude in front of the Gryffindors." Draco has his wall up again, like he did at breakfast. Harry's heart sinks. Draco looks at the Gryffindors with a cold look. It's a look that his father wore, and something he practiced for hours in front of his bedroom mirror.
It's a smirk that's way to familiar for Harry, and he tries to not let it get to him. He should be used to it because he and Malfoy aren't really friends.
"Lets play a game." Seamus says. His words are slurred from the string drink in his hand.
"I don't think playing any games right now would do you any good," Dean pulls Seamus down, and Seamus accidentally lands in Deans lap.
"Lets definitely play a game," Blaise is twice as drunk as Seamus. Harry knows this because Blaise is undressing Seamus with his eyes when he really shouldn't. "We can play games, Seamus," Blaise whispers.
"You have a girlfriend, Blaise, and I don't think she's going to like it if you snog Seamus," Pansy snaps.
"Ginny? Where are you, Ginny?" Blaise sings. He gets up to go look for her, but both Parkinson and Malfoy pull him down.
"Lets play Truth or Dare," Seamus says.
"Alright," Hermione agrees. She's leaning on Ron, so she's got to be a little wasted.
"I'll go first," Blaise slurs. "Truth or Dare, Hermione?"
"Truth," Hermione says. Even when she's buzzed, she plays it safe.
"Did you have a crush on Draco?" Blaise leans forward as he asks, his eyes closing.
Hermione blushes. "Like, second or third year."
Pansy starts laughing. "I can't believe someone had a crush on you!" She headbutts Draco. "Hey, what's this?" She's holding a black, wavy hair.
"Pansy," Draco threatens.
"It's a Harry hair!" She hoots. "A Harry hair!"
"Truth or Dare, Neville?" Hermione asks.
"Dare?" Neville is apprehensive about it, and Harry can relate.
"Go kiss Hannah Abbott." Hermione slurs. Harry takes the Firewhiskey bottle out of her hands before anything else bad happens.
Neville gets up and heads for the balcony where Hannah and the other Hufflepuffs are. He comes back red-faced and the catcalls of Hufflepuffs following him. Harry tries to catch Draco's eyes, but the blonde looks pointedly away. Harry frowns.
"Lets play something else." Neville crosses his arms.
"Spin the bottle!" Seamus cries.
Dean grabs an empty Firewhiskey bottle, and everyone sits on the multicolored rugs in a semi circle.
Hannah Abbott sits next to Neville and he blushes.
Pansy spins first, and it lands on Hermonie. They kiss for approximately three seconds, but Pansy's lipstick has still managed to get all over Hermione. Hermonie wipes it all of onto her sleeve and grins.
"I'm going up to bed, everyone," Harry gets up and decides he has had enough of the silent treatment from a certain blond boy.
"You've just woken up, Harry," Ron says from behind a bottle. "Bloody hell, this is strong."
Ron spins the Firewhiskey bottle and it lands on Malfoy. Harry can't stomach seeing Draco kiss anyone right now, let alone Ron, whose girlfriend was making bedroom eyes at Pansy. He walks down the hallway by himself, and can hear his friends chanting Kiss, Kiss, Kiss! to encourage Draco and Ron.
He opens the scorched door and flops onto the bed. He's only been awake for fourty-five minutes and he's already tired of everything and everyone around him. If he strains his ears, he can hear the drunken laughs and giggles of the participants of the Spin the Bottle game. He puts a pillow over his ears to block out the noise and falls into a dreamless slumber.
None of the eighth years, save one, go down for breakfast the next day, and he's still in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms, an old T-shirt that Hermonie ironically got him that says I've Died Once Already and This Conversation Will Bore Me To Death in tiny printing and messy bedhead. His hair is extra messy because of the lack of a shower, and his glasses frames are a bit crooked. Harry slept in, so he's there at the usual breakfast time, and he's all alone at the eighth year table.He takes a sip of his tea, and pretends to be interested in whatever book he had picked up at the library. It was something about a muggle love triangle with another plot-line that Harry had a hard time focusing on. He put the book down and sighed into his tea. It was a good breakfast, but lack of good company. Lack of any of his eighth year classmates, to be exact. He could always go stand by Ginny, if needed, but he didn't feel like talking to her friends. Or an ex-girlfriend, for that matter.
He bit into a delicious apple strudel muffin but it tasted like nothing to him. Harry was so grumpy this morning, and he wasn't really sure why.
It was probably Draco Malfoy induced rage. Which he was perfectly used too, thank you very much, but this was more of a love-hate rage, which Harry wasn't used too. Hermonie and Ron were probably used too it, bloody hell, they annoyed each other sometimes, but Harry wasn't. He was used to a hate that he's all in or all out. A love that Harry's all in or all out. And with Malfoy, he was at half-and-half. A standstill. A fine line out the border between love and hate. A very, very thin line, but a line nonetheless.
For the third time at breakfast, Harry sighed into his tea. He decided to create a list, like he usually does, for reasons he shouldn't like Draco as more than a friend or even as a friend.
1.He steals your best mates seat at breakfast.
2.He convinces random boys to cuddle with him, then gives them the cold shoulder. Harry is absolutely not the first guy Malfoy has tricked onto a fabric couch.
3.He's a git
4.He looks really cute curled up next to Harry and it's not fair.
5.He's attempting to seduce Harry. Harry won't let him, though.
Now that Harry thinks about it, Malfoy's been acting like he has every year, so it's not much of a seducement.
That's five things Harry can think of, and he'll probably have more by the end of the week. He'll defiantly have more by the end of the week. He'll probably have fifty by the time classes start, and around four hundred by graduation.
Harry heads out to the grassy area just outside the Forbidden Forest with an enchanted picnic basket, his wand, and books. He's still in his pajamas, and most likely get detention if a teacher catches him in mundane clothes, but Harry doesn't mind. It's a nice day outside, with the distant smell of rain coming in from the nearest muggle town, and the third years heading to Hagrid's class.
Enjoying the Wednesday afternoon outside was what Harry initially wants to do, but if no one wakes up Ron, the git will sleep off his hangover by tomorrow morning, and Harry's a bit angry with him. He gets up off the grass, where he accidentally took a quick nap, and shuts the picnic basket. There are first years out on the Quidditch field, attempting to fly. Harry waves at the twin Gryffindor boys, who are already zooming around like pros. When a little girl sees him, she nearly falls off her broom. He moves on, now in the courtyard, and he waves the door open with a wordless spell just as Malfoy does.
6.He steals your super cool entrances.
"Potter," Malfoy smirks.
7.He doesn't understand the concept of being civil to one's peers.
"Hey Harry. How are you?" Pansy gives Harry a hug, which surprises him so much that he drops the picnic basket.
"I'm good." Harry smiles at her. "How was lunch?"
"Excellent except for Grumpy over here," Pansy points at Malfoy.
"See you around, Pansy," Harry says as he walks towards the dining hall.
"You couldn't have been rude to him like usual, Pansy?" Drco complains once Harry is out of sight. "For me?"
"Well, Draco, I enjoy being friends with Harry, ad the damn world doesn't revolve around you and your screwed-up love life," Pansy snaps at him. He's pushing her buttons. "Maybe if you were just nice to him-"
"I'm sorry, when have I ever been nice?" Draco sneers.
Pansy pretends to consider it. "Lets think, shall we?"
Draco groans. "Lets not."
When Harry gets to the common room, Hermonie tells him to get dressed. She's lacing up her shoes, her robes ready, wand between her teeth. Harry comes out a few minutes later, along with a sleepy Ron, who he forcefully dragged out of bed. "Lets get a move on then," Hermonie chatters excitedly.
"Where are we going?" Ron rubs at his eyes.
"To go see who the new potions professor is, of course." Hermonie leads them to the dungeons. She nearly maims a third year in her eagerness to get to the Potions classroom.
The trio finally arrives, and Hermonie waves open the door. "I'm half-expecting Snape," Ron mutters to Harry.
"Wouldn't that be fun?" Harry whispers back.
"Fleur, lets put the advanced ingredients higher and the basic ones lower." A familiar voice says.
"One 'econd, Bill," A woman's French accent fills the room. "Ze door 'pened."
"Do we have a class today?" Bill asks Fleur.
"I do not zink 'o," Fleur turns and smiles at the trio. "Arry, how good to 'ee you!" Fleur gives Harry a hug first, then Ron, then Hermonie.
"What are you guys doing here?" Ron asks.
"We're the new Potions professors!" Bill puts down a jar of DragonBreath and grins. "You've got your schedule, right Ron?"
"Well, uh, you see, its only a little peice of paper, and-"
"-and you lost it." Bill says. "Never mind about that, although Mum would be mad if she knew." Ron grimaces.
"Bill, be nice," Fleur says.
"Ron loses his schedule every year." Hermonie pips up. "It's a miracle that he remembers to bring his wand to class."
"No need to rat me out," Ron glowers.
"Its a miracle he's got a wand," Bill laughs at his little brother.
"Next time you want to take me anywhere Hermonie, I'm staying in bed."
"What if I take you to Rome?" Hermonie asks.
"I'll consider your offer, then."
Luckily, Harry had found Seamus's stash of Firewhiskey and whisked it away with a simple Evanesco. He didn't want to deal with drunken friends and Spin the Firewhiskey Bottle Hermonie Drank All By Herself. There was only one thing good that came out of drunken Truth or Dare and Spin the Bottle, and it was that Neville had finally done something about his crush on Hannah, because it was long overdue. Harry and Ron headed down to dinner together. Hermonie had already left with Pansy and Blaise for the dining hall.
"So what's up with you and Malfoy?" Ron said.
"What?" Harry stammered. Well, Ron, here's the thing. I'm into blokes, preferably blond ones.
"Harry, do you fancy blokes?" Ron asked.
"I suppose." Harry was nervous. Even though same-sex marriage has been legal in the Wizarding World since 1938, some families still thought of LGBT people and their goddamn personal lives as an abomination.
"Alright." Ron's voice was even, which was hopefully a good sign. "If this Malfoy thing doesn't work out, Charlie likes blokes too."
It was just like Ron-and Mrs. Weasley-to try and marry Harry into the family. "Did mum tell you to say that?"
"Yeah," Ron grinned.
The boys reached the dining hall, and Harry could feel a sight pull to his seat across Draco Malfoy. He sat on the wooden bench with a groan. Malfoy rolled his grey eyes, then proceeded to loo at his tea leaves with great interest.
9.Rolls his eyes at you when you've only just sat down.
Malfoy took a sip of his tea, discreetly still avoiding Harry's eyes.
10.Stares into his tea just so he has something to look at besides you.
Harry has has enough with Draco and his snobby attitude. He turns to Seamus and has to ask for the potatoes four times. Seamus is showing Dean a newly discovered freckle that'd got Seamus loosening his belt. If it's on his stomach, then why no belt? Usually, Harry would tell them to get a room, and not their dormitory, but instead he reaches across and grabs the plate by himself. He grabs it a bit too angrily, and Seamus jerks back in surprise.
"What's the matter, Harry?" Dean says.
"Is it that time of the month?" Draco leers.
11.When you have a bad day, he asks if you're PMSing, like a douche.
12.He knows that you don't have a uterus, but he asks if you're on your period anyway, the bloody git.
"Nothings wrong," Harry slams his fork into the baked potato. "I'd like to get back to my meal now if that's alright with everyone else."
"I think there's something wrong," Draco mock-whispers.
13.Constantly makes fun of you.
"Could you leave me alone, Malfoy?" Harry stabs his fork into his steak. "For once, I'd like to eat a meal in peace without your snide comments."
"Who, me?" Draco smirks.
14. Doesn't take credit for his mean words.
"Malfoy, you've been mocking me since we were eleven years old. Who else would I mean? God?" Harry's had enough with him, but at the same time, he wants to snog Malfoy until he can't breathe. He wants to punch him in the mouth with his own mouth.
15.He makes me so mad that I can't decide if I want to snog him or punch him in the throat.
Malfoy's eyes soften. "Harry-"
"I said leave me alone, alright?" Harry stands up and heads to the eighth year dormitories.
"Draco!" Blaise slaps Draco on the shoulder, hard, once Harry leaves. "Stop screwing yourself over!"
"You make one mistake...." Draco grouches at Blaise.
"Malfoy, you like Potter, aye?" Ron says. "I think you should go for it."
"What?" Draco snaps. Blaise leans in close to Draco's ear.
"HE SAYS YOU SHOULD SNOG POTTER BEFORE ANYONE ELSE DOES IT FIRST!" Blaise yells, directly into Draco's ear. Draco flinches. "Have I got your attention, dearie?" Blaise smiles maliciously.
"The yelling was a bit too much, sweetheart," Draco rolls his eyes at the fellow Slytherin.
"Draco," Hermonie places her hand on Draco's unhurt shoulder, "if you don't actually talk to Harry, he'll keep on loving you and hating you at the same time, and it'll wreck both of you."
"And if you don't tell him how you feel," Seamus says, looking more at Dean then at Draco, "you'll regret it, and constantly try to convince yourself it wasn't meant to be. You won't get your shot at true love with him."
"Seamus," Pansy turns to the Irishman, "are you and Dean dating?"
"W-w-what?" Seamus stammers while Dean just smiles. Dean raises his hand to show that they're holding hands under the table.
"Well, I would hope so," Dean grins. Ron hands ten Galleons to Hermonie.
"Couldn't have waited until November, could you?" Ron sighs.
"Could we go back to me, now?" Draco groans, irritated.
"If you write him a note, I can put it under his pillow." Ron suggests.
After his shower, Harry stretches out on his bed, ready for sleep. The pillows out of place, on the other side of the bed, and Harry lifts it up. A folded piece of parchment paper falls out of the pillow case, and Harry unfolds it. He can barely see without his glasses, so he stumbles around the room, looking for them. He slides them on and sits on the floor. The ink is fresh, and he accidentally smudges the name at the bottom.
I'm sorry for being such a git at dinner earlier, and I'd like to make it up. Meet me at the Quidditch field around midnight? Bring your broom.
Harry's broom is under his bed, as usual, and he checks the time. Only eleven pm. He'd leave in forty-five minutes, or maybe thirty minutes, just to be safe. Well, then he'd be too eager, and whoever invited him to a night game of Quidditch would probably leave once they saw him there first. He just had to wait forty-five minutes.
Harry got there seven minutes early, broom in hand. He had forgotten to change out of his pjs, but that was okay.
"Nearly thought you wouldn't come, because of the way I've been acting towards you." Draco was in his pajamas too. A tight-fitting grey tee and pants with little wands that were charmed to shoot little cotton spells.
16. He has awesome pajamas that make you want to cuddle with him.
"Wouldn't pass up a game of Quidditch," Harry says.
"Not much of a game, just two Seekers," Draco held up the Snitch and tossed it into the air. It flew off, and so did the boys. At first Harry was worried that he wouldn't be able to see the Snitch in the pitch black, but Draco had charmed it to glow, along with their brooms.
Draco spotted the Snitch before Harry, and once Harry saw Draco dive for the Snitch, he flew after him. Draco veered to the left, hoping to distract Harry, but instead Harry reached for the Snitch. His fingers grazed it as Draco bumped into him, and Harry lost his balance for a few scary seconds before righting himself on the broom. Yet again, Draco had the lead, and Harry chased after the other boy's glowing broom.
17.Attempts to throw you off of your broom to get ahead.
Draco looked back at Harry and grinned. "Come on then, Potter."
18. Doesn't use your real name.
"Haven't been on one of these since sixth year." Harry calls back. "Although, I'm still better than you."
"Scared, Potter?" Draco laughs.
"You wish," Harry dives below Draco. The Snitch is almost in his reach, but Draco dives for it also, and both boys fall off their brooms. They're falling two hundred feet into mud and dirt and grass, and before Harry can summon his wand, Draco catches them with a wordless spell. They're hovering only a few inches above the ground, so close that Harry's nose can smell the grass. Suddenly, Harry drops, Dracos spell broken. The Snitch and their brooms are still glowing objects in the air, and Harry waves his wand with a simple Accio and they fly towards them. The Snitch returns to it's little box, and the brooms next to it.
The boys are sitting across from each other, and Harry's got a rosy blush on his cheeks that he hopes Draco doesn't see. Harry wants to lean into Draco's chest a little bit, use him as a pillow, but instead they just smile at each other.
"Truth or Dare, Potter?" Draco arches an eyebrow.
19.Out of the blue, he decides that he ants to play party games while you're deeply staring into each others eyes.
"Truth," Harry arches an eyebrow right back.
"Did you like cuddling together?" Draco flushes a deep red.
"Did you?" Harry asks. He doesn't want to embarrass himself if Draco didn't like it when they were cuddling.
"I asked first."
Yeah, but did you?" Harry questions. He hopes that Malfoy says yes.
"That's not how this game works, Potter. First, you say 'Truth or Dare' then ask me." Malfoy sounds haughty.
20.Makes you work for an answer to a simple yes or no question.
Harry sighs. "Truth or Dare?"
Malfoy looks pleased. "Truth."
"Did you like cuddling?"
Malfoy picks at the grass. "Yes. Truth or Dare?"
"Do you have a crush on me?"
21.Bluntly asks personal questions.
Harry can't speak, so he just nods.
"Good, because I have a crush on you, Scarhead."
22.Uses obnoxious nicknames while confessing his feelings for you.
"Truth or Dare, Draco?"
"I dare you to kiss me."
Draco leans towards Harry, and slowly presses his lips against the black-haired boy's lips. Harry notices that kissing Draco is like starting a fire, it starts with a single match, a single kiss, but flames into something bigger, something rougher. Harry wants to keep kissing Draco in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, but Draco pulls away.
"Truth or Dare, Harry?"
23.He stops kissing you so that he can play a muggle game with you.
"Will you be my boyfriend?"
Harry nods excitedly. "Bloody hell, Draco, of course."
24.He's managed to ask you out in the cutest way possible.
Harry grabs Draco by the back of his neck and their noses touch like they're going to kiss again. "Truth or Dare?"
"Truth," Draco whispers.
"Do you love me?" Harry murmurs.
"I'll never stop being in love with you, Harry," Draco breathes out.
25.He's in love with you.
Harry snogs him then, deepy, like they're drowning and kisses are air. Draco pushes Harry onto his back, and Harry's shirt will probably be covered in grass stains, but he couldn't care less. Draco's tongue slides into Harry's mouth, and Harry gasps. Harry places kisses along Draco's jawline and down his neck, and he considers pulling off Draco's shirt, but it's much too cold. They snog until they're too tired, and they fall asleep like that, Draco on top of Harry in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.
McGonagall is standing over Harry and Draco, her arms crossed.
"I owe Miss Granger thirty Galleons thanks to you two now." McGonagall says, "couldn't have waited until after Christmas, eh?"
Draco connects his hand with Harry's. "No, Ma'am." Harry's cheeks redden.
"Well, boys, try to avoid sleeping on the Quidditch pitch for now, okay?"
Draco and Harry both nod, and get up off the ground, and brush themselves off. Harry kisses Draco on the cheek, and looks on the pink hickeys lining Draco's pale neck.
They don't stop holding hands, even after grabbing their brooms. Luckily, McGonagall put the Snitch away for them. Harry leads Draco up to the eighth year common room, where they sit on a pair of red and green bean bags in front of the fire place. Harry is still memorized byt Draco's charmed pj's and everything about Draco, really. He realizes that the little list he had been creating had gone from things he used to hate about Draco to things he loved about his boyfriend.
26.You're in love with him.