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Draco knew that something was wrong the minute Ron came into their shared office with a huge smile on his face.

They had been auror partners for over two years now and while it had been everything but easy in the beginning, Draco wouldn't trade their time together for the world. They worked well together and had become close friends over time. They even met up down the pub every Friday. Ron often brought Hermione and Harry along (which had caused some awkward moments in the beginning but especially the latter made Draco's heart skip a beat now), and Draco was accompanied by Pansy or Blaise sometimes. Friday evenings were his favourite time of the whole week.


However, when Ron started to speak, grin still in place, Draco wasn't entirely sure if the status of their friendship couldn't change drastically.

“Draco, the D-master, D-zizzle in the house,” he mumbled while letting himself fall into his chair. He held two coffee cups in his hands and held one out to Draco, who took it with great suspicion.


“What is this?”

“Soya Caramel Moccha,” Ron scrunched up his nose in obvious distaste, “just how you like it.”

Draco took a look at his coffee cup and could smell the caramel. Careful not to let Ron know just how much he appreciated the gesture, he took a sip, set down his mug and waved his hand at his partner.

“No, I mean... all of this. And if you ever call me D-zizzle again I'll hex you seven ways from Sunday,” he squinted his eyes, trying to look intimidating.

Ron just laughed.

“Just let me be in a good mood, will you?”

Draco nodded, still cautious of his friend's behaviour.



As it turned out, Ron seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood the whole week. He brought Draco coffee every single morning, smiled more and kept his ramblings about George putting plastic spiders in his shoes to a minimum.


Needless to say, Draco grew more and more suspicious with every single cup of caffeine-sugar goodness that was placed on his desk.



When Ron went to the bar to grab another round that Friday evening, Draco asked Hermione and Harry if they had noticed something different about Ron, but after thinking it over, both of them shook their head no.


Draco forgot all about Ron's suspicious behaviour for the rest of the night, due to the fact that Harry's leg was pressed against his and he could feel Harry's breath against his cheek whenever he leaned in to say something to Draco.



He forgot it all until Monday, which was when Ron not only brought him coffee but treated him to lunch at Draco's favourite restaurant. It was a bit on the posh side and he noticed that Ron felt distinctly uncomfortable.


Good, he thought, that'll teach him.


In the end, he just sighed and said:


“Out with it, Weasel. Your behaviour is rather distressing to the point that I cannot bloody concentrate. So I suggest you either tell me what the bloody fuck you want from me or you just stop.”


Ron looked at him for a moment before setting his cutlery down. Hesitantly, he looked back up and crossed his arms in front of his chest.


“So, it's Harry's birthday soon.”


Draco nodded. He knew that. Everyone knew that. He just really didn't know what that had to do with anything. He said so and the answering grin unnerved him to no end.


“So...I've kind of been trying to court you.”


Draco had chosen just that moment to take a sip from his water and instantly spluttered. It took him a moment to compose himself again before glaring at his friend.


“I beg your pardon?”


“I am wooing you, Draco.”


Silence. Draco had no idea what to say to that, except...


“I think Hermione will have something to say about that,” he finally settled on and pushed a spoonful of soup into his mouth just to have something to do.


Ron laughed before he started to look sheepish, his cheeks turning slightly pink.


“Yeah, so, I'm kind of not wooing you for me.”


Draco blinked his eyes quickly.


“If you don't tell me what's going on this instant, I swear, I will leave you with all my paperwork over the weekend,” he gritted out, getting a bit flushed himself.


Ron sighed.

“Okay, so look, so, Harry's birthday, yeah? Is soon. And the thing is, he's sort of... well, he doesn't need much. In general. And in... not general he can buy anything he fancies himself. So I kind of don't know what to get him. Except... I know that he fancies you,” he paused for dramatic effect and Draco sucked in a sharp breath, his ears suddenly ringing and he was quite sure that all the blood in his body was rushing to his cheeks.

Potter? Fancying him? It couldn't be, could it?


“And I've kind of seen the way you look at him. When we go out and when... he comes by the office... Which he does more often than he strictly has to and definitely not to see me,” Ron continued, looking pointedly at Draco, “so I was hoping. If you're up for it. And if you say yes... that I can just... send the two of you on a date? And that's my present? Like a good date, yeah?”


He stopped talking and looked at Draco expectantly.

Draco opened and closed his mouth several times. He had no idea what to say.

“Me... and...”

He closed his mouth again.

“Harry,” Ron supplied and took a bite of his pasta, nodding while chewing.


“I think it's a great idea,” he continued and then furrowed his brow.

“Would you please say something?”


“Why would you... I don't know what to say, honestly.”


“Well, how about yes?”


“Ron, there is so much wrong with your plan I cannot even start to...”


“And what exactly is wrong with it?”


“For starters, how do you know that Potter...likes me?” Draco felt quite insecure while asking and at the same time dying to hear the answer. He wouldn't quite call himself pining for Harry Potter, simply because Malfoys didn't pine, but he'd heard both Pansy and Blaise use the word and if he was completely honest... they might have a point.


Ron looked at him with an odd expression.

“I grew up with the bloke. We've been sharing a room since I was eleven. I know things. He definitely fancies you. The question is,” he grabbed his napkin and wiped at his mouth, “do you fancy him as much as I think you do?”


Draco decided not to answer. Which was just as well because Ron's face lit up like the Great Hall on Christmas morning regardless.


“Splendid. Date on his birthday then, yeah?”


Draco buried his face in his hands and groaned.

“If you've got this wrong and I'm making a fool out of myself I will put in a request for another partner.”

His words were muffled by his hands and he could hear Ron laugh instantly.

“You'll have to stop threatening me. I know you won't ever go through with any of that.”

And then there was a comforting hand patting his back.


Oh Merlin, what had he gotten himself into?



Draco felt... humiliated. Nervous, too. But mostly humiliated. He was sat in Ron and Hermione's kitchen, at the dinner table in his best dress robes, the only light coming from the candle in front of him and waiting for Harry to arrive.


It all wouldn't be so bad, it was quite romantic actually, if Ron hadn't insisted on putting a huge bow on his head. An honest to god, bright red gift wrap bow. Ron had stuck it on there with the most potent sticking charm he'd been able to find and Draco had tried taking it off but to no avail. He looked absolutely ridiculous.


He was still fidgeting, when the floo flared to life and Harry stepped out.

“Ron? Hermione?” he called into the empty house.

Draco scrunched his eyes shut, nervous about Harry finding him in the kitchen.

He opened them, when he heard a sharp intake of breath.


Harry stared at him, confused.

“Draco? What are you doing here?”

Draco had no idea how to react and his friendship with Ron had kind of shown him the positive sides of using humour in awkward situations. Therefore, with all the dignity he could muster, he performed his best Jazz hands while saying:



Harry still stared, his cheeks slightly flushed in the candle light and Draco marveled at how beautiful he looked, his cheek bones highlighted by the candle and his hair so deliciously dishevelled.

He cleared his throat and gestured to the plate opposite his, where Ron had placed a note for Harry to find.

“Ron left you a note.”


Slowly, Harry made his way over and with one last lingering look at Draco (and a quick glance at the bow), he opened the note and read.


When he finished it, he gaped first at the note and then at Draco, who was getting more and more uncomfortable by the second.


“He's... giving me... you... as a present?”


Draco looked at a spot on the wall just above Harry's head and shrugged.

“I mean you... I'm sure he has a return policy in place if...”




The insistence in Harry's voice startled Draco into looking directly at him. Harry made his way over and knelt in front of Draco, bringing them to eye-level.


“You, er, you said yes to this? You're here out of your own free will?”


Draco blushed slightly.

“I am,” he paused and scrunched his nose up, “however, I'd like to say that the bow definitely-”


He didn't get much further than that because Harry's lips were on his and his hand slowly found its way to Draco's cheek, cupping it gently.


Draco closed his eyes and fully gave himself to the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly around Harry's shoulders and returning the kiss.


When they parted, Draco let his forehead rest against Harry's, who let out a quiet giggle.


“Best birthday present ever,” he mumbled while tugging on the bow on Draco's head.

To his dismay, it loosened easily to Harry's touch and fell to the floor. Harry smiled at him and Draco touched his fingers to Harry's lips in wonder.


“You've no idea how long I've wanted this, Draco,” he whispered and Draco's heart fluttered, "bloody years".


He never would've believed that he would get to see the day when Harry Potter would look at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky but here they were.

He smiled back at him and said:

“So, as this is supposed to be a date... there is, er, food. In the kitchen, if you want to...”

Harry nodded and took Draco's hand in his, lacing their fingers together.


“But just so you know, I'm not letting go of your hand anytime soon.”


Draco snorted.


“Well that will make eating somewhat difficult...”


The answering grin however, made him lose any remaining thoughts so he settled for squeezing Harry's hand and murmuring:

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” before leaning in for another kiss.


By the time they got around to eating dinner, the food was cold (luckily easily fixed by a wandless heating charm). And it was of course extremely difficult to eat while with only one hand. But Draco couldn't remember a moment in his life where he'd been this happy. And he just hoped that Harry felt the same.


“I'm so glad Ron wooed me,” he suddenly said with a sigh and laughed loudly at Harry's outraged expression.


Yep, he thought, bliss at its finest.