"Stop staring, Harry." Hermione said, without looking up from her book.
"I'm not staring, Herman!" Harry said, trying not to sound guilty. He put his head back into his book, and continued reading.
Hermione rolled her eyes, and huffed. "You are staring. Go talk to him."
"What?!" Harry's mouth fell open, and he looked at Hermione. "I'm not staring at anyone! Especially not another guy!"
"Don't lie, Harry." Hermione snapped her book shut, and strode out of the library.
"I wasn't staring," Harry muttered angrily, and followed Hermione.
"So," Hermione and Harry entered the Prefect's Tower, and sat next to Ron. Strictly speaking, Harry wasn't allowed there but- well, he's Harry Potter.
"Hey, Herman." Ron let Hermione kiss his cheek, "hey, Harry."
"Hi," Harry smiled, and slung his bag down by his feet.
"Harry was staring at Malfoy again," Hermione sighed, and yawned. It was nearing ten o'clock, and Hermione had been up all night studying.
"I wasn't staring!" Harry protested.
"Just talk to him!" Ron said, grinning.
"Look," Harry said firmly, "I was not staring at Draco-"
"Draco, is it?" Hermione asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Shut up!" Harry growled, "I'm leaving."
So he did. Harry made his way up to Gryffindor Tower, and was happy to fall into the large dome of soft, red pillows. He didn't even bother to get changed; Harry just kicked off his shoes.
Harry woke up in time for breakfast. He pulled on his uniform, brushed his hair lazily, and stomped downstairs. His glasses sat on his face at an angle, and he was still too tired to put them straight. Hermione and Ron were waiting for him, like they always did, and the trio walked to breakfast together.
"Do you want me to butter your toast?" Harry asked Ron.
"Yeah," Ron was leaning over Potions homework, which Harry had already finished, and too busy to butter his own toast. Harry buttered four bits of toast whilst Hermione talked at him.
"So, I've been thinking-"
"Don't do that, Herman," Ron smirked, but received a smack to the head. "Ow..."
"Anyway- how about we switch partners up, and you get to work with Malfoy?" Hermione smiled at Harry, who pretended not to hear. "Harry?"
"Uh," Harry's head lolled in front of him, "I don't know."
"Well... Know!" Hermione smiled, and drunk her tea. "Anyway, I'm going to get to Potions early- I've got to talk to Slughorn about extra credit!" With that, she jogged out of the hall, and down to the dungeons. Harry passed Ron his plate, and then started on his own toast.
"She cares, you know." Ron said, not looking up.
"I know," Harry sighed, "that's why I can't tell her to piss off. No offence, Ron, but it's annoying as hell. I mean, even if I was staring at him, which I wasn't, surely it would be because I have a fiery hatred for him?"
"Well, Hermione said that hate and love had a fine line between them, but I think it's wrong. Personally, I think that love and hate are the same, and indifference is the line that could split them up. But don't tell her I said she was wrong."
"I won't," Harry smiled, and stood up. "Ready?"
"Sure," Ron collected his things, and he and Harry walked to the dungeons together.
"Harry" Slughorn grinned, "my favourite! How are you?" Harry had just gotten through the door, and Ron went to finish his essay whilst Slughorn was distracted.
"Uh, I'm good, thanks." Harry nodded awkwardly, "how are you?"
"Good! Are you ready for today, Harry?" Slughorn's eyes were fixed on Harry, and Harry could hear the distinctive scoff of Draco Malfoy.
"As always, Sir." Harry ducked out of Slughorn's arms, and took his seat next to Hermione.
"Today, class, we're brewing polyjuice potion! Or rather, we're starting to. This is going to be a month-long project, and the Polyjuice Potion will be one you'll be tested on at the end of the year!" Slughorn smiled excitedly, "pair up!" Ron and Hermione paired up together, but Hermione complained that they'd already done Polyjuice Potion. Harry was left on his own, and so was Draco, as Blaise and Ernie had paired up. Harry rolled his eyes, and decided to bite the bullet.
"Uh, hi." Harry shuffled up to Draco.
"I suppose you'll want to go with me, then?" Draco asked, doodling on his text book.
"Well," Harry looked around- everyone was paired up. "Yes, I suppose so."
"Well, sit down. I think Slughorn's going to lecture us." Harry jumped to attention, and slipped into Blaise's seat, next to Draco.
"There's nothing to do this lesson, apart from tell you what you're going to be doing! Copy this down, class." Slughorn stood at the front of the class, and wrote on the blackboard, with a piece of yellow, squeaky chalk. He wrote: Nine lots of sixteen fluxweed- one pair needs to collect their own at a fall moon. Next lesson, lacewing flies will begin to stew, students should find those in the ingredients cupboard. Prepare all other ingredients, that can be prepared, before the twenty-one day cut off point to save time. Method should be in text book.
"I have to spend a whole month with you," Draco sighed, looking at Harry.
"Why don't we just get on with it, instead of arguing?" Harry muttered diplomatically.
"Yes," Draco sighed, "we could do that."
"Harry, do you mind getting the fluxweed for you and Draco?" Slughorn lowered his voice, "I don't think the others are capable."
"Uh," Harry blushed at the flattery, and nodded.
When Slughorn had gone back to his desk, Draco mumbled, "idiot."
"Hermione, when's the next full moon?" Harry asked over lunch.
"Is Slughorn making you get the fluxweed?" Hermione bit her cheese sandwich, and thought. She swallowed, and then nodded. "I think it's in a few days. I'll check tonight. It probably isn't tonight," Hermione lost herself in thought, then nodded again, "no, it's in two days."
"Thanks, Herman." Harry smiled, and ate his lunch happily.
Harry's dorm was empty when he got in, and he was, once again, happy to sleep. But he had a Potions method to copy up. He'd written the notes from class down, but he wanted the method on paper. He started by writing down the ingredients, because that was important, then the first half of the method. He looked up at the clock, at it was getting late. A few boys had come in slowly, but aside from the opening and closing doors, the room was silent. Harry pushed his things off his bed, stripped down to his boxers, and clambered into bed.
"Stewing lacewing flies!" Slughorn beamed happily. He may be an old, sarcastic man, with defeatism issues, but he really did love Potions Class. "Everyone, grab your cauldron, it doesn't matter what type, and stew! At the end of the lesson, put them at the back and label them. I'll leave the room unlocked so you can check on them whenever you like." He waved his hand, and everyone got to work.
"Have you got the lacewing flies?" Draco asked, barely looking at Harry.
"I thought you did," Harry retorted. Draco scoffed, and walked to the ingredients cupboard without another word. Now, Harry wasn't a creep, but Draco had taken his robe off, so he was only in his shirt/tie/ combo, and slim fitting, black trousers, and proper Italian made shoes. Harry appreciated the view of Draco swaggering to the cupboard, and had to restrain himself, as he felt his head about to tilt and bob in time to Draco's steps. "Not bad," he whispered to nobody in particular. Whilst he waited for Draco, he continued copying the rest of the method down from his text book. He was supposed to make predictions on how well it would work, but he could do that later, couldn't he?
"There," Draco had come back without Harry's notice, "put these in, we need to hurry, or we'll get left behind."
"Are you panicking?" Harry asked, a lopsided grin on his face. He almost enjoyed watching Draco squirm.
"No!" Draco said, a small, pink blush attacking his ears, "I just don't want to fail."
"We won't fail," Harry reassured, but did as Draco instructed. "I'm actually good at Potions." Harry smirked; Draco was still blushing.
"Good," Draco seemed assured, and sat next to Harry, and doodled on his text book again.
"Well, Ron nearly spilled our caldron contents, again, but Slughorn caught it before it was too late, so I probably won't get extra credit if my partner is a big a clutz as Ronald!" Hermione grew more angry and more erratic as she retold her story to Harry for the fifth time.
Harry just sighed and shook his head, "Herman..."
"I just want to do well!" Hermione said, breathing deeply.
"And you well," Harry laughed, "you always do. It's kind of your thing."
"Thanks," Hermione hugged Harry, and walked to the Prefect's Tower.
"Listen, I was thinking about getting the fluxweed tonight," Harry looked up at Draco as they were walking out of Potions. "And I could do with a hand."
"Sure," Draco scoffed, as if insulted by being downgraded to holding a basket for Harry Potter. "Meet you at ten by the Entrance Hall?"
"Can't I just come and collect you? I've got the cloak?" Harry said, having to slow down to walk with Draco.
"Uh," Draco bit his lip in thought. Seeing that made Harry's stomach flip, but he supressed the urge to bite Draco's lip for him. "Sure, that'll be easier." Draco nodded, and it surprised Harry that they were being friendly. "I'll go to Slytherin instead of Prefect's," Draco took a piece of parchment from his robe pockets, and then his quill, scribbled something, then handed Harry the small scroll. "Here's the password," Draco saw Harry read it, then smirk, "don't laugh. It was Parkinson's idea."
"See you later," Harry whispered to Ron, who'd decided to stay in the Gryffindor Tower that night. "I'm off."
"Okay, mate." Ron nodded, and Harry whipped the Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders.
Just-a-head Harry ran to the dungeons, and realised he'd left the password in his school robes, and then giggled to himself. He remembered it, and he could almost trace how Draco had written it in the air, and he could remember the light green ink that Draco had used. "Ferret," he said quietly, and the common room doors swung open. He put his hood up, and continued inside.
Harry tiptoed through the common room, avoiding every Slytherin in his path. He went into Draco's dorm, and was a little hurt (though he wasn't sure why) by the scene that he saw. Draco was shirtless, at least, under his bed sheets. One of his hands was below the belt, and the other was gripping his pillow so tightly his knuckles seemed almost see-through. Harry saw he wasn't alone. He didn't know who the other person was, but his head was between Draco's legs, and whatever he was doing was making Draco curse and swear loudly. "F-Fuck..." Draco's voice quivered, and Harry decided that he'd just wait downstairs.
"So, you're waiting for Draco, Potty?" Pansy was grilling him, as Harry had taken the cloak off.
"It's for a class," Harry said quietly.
"Suuuuuuuuuure it is." Pansy drawled sarcastically, and flicked the page in her book over, and continued reading. Harry was stood awkwardly with his hands in his jean pockets.
"It is," Harry said, even quieter, though he knew Pansy didn't care. A few minutes later, Draco trotted downstairs. He looked at Harry, in a puzzled fashion, but carried on.
"I have a basket," Draco offered Harry the basket.
"Thanks," Harry took it. "Got your wand?"
"Yeah," Draco showed Harry that, too.
"Let's go." Harry turned on his heels, and Draco followed, but hung back.
A small patch of fluxweed could be found inside one of the greenhouses, but neither of the boys had permission to use it; even if they did, it was locked. "There's some in the forest, I think." Draco said nervously. He had his wand out, and was waving it about so the light flashed everywhere.
"What are we waiting for?" Harry asked, one hand on his hip. The way the wand light hit Draco's face, made Harry smile, because it made the boy look less gaunt and more athletic.
"You're staring at me," Draco muttered.
"I am not staring at you!" Harry said, walking in time with Draco.
"Are too," Draco said, but he didn't sound angry. He just sounded amused.
Harry sighed, and decided to change the subject. "You were late, earlier."
"I know, I was...busy." Draco pursed his lips.
"I know," Harry said, shaking his lips, "I came to collect you, but..." Harry sighed again. "I went downstairs as soon as I figured out that you were, indeed, busy."
"You watched?" Draco asked, spinning around, glaring at Harry.
"No!" Harry panicked, and he knew he was blushing.
"Did you see?" Draco's glare softened only slightly.
"See what?" Harry asked.
"Who it was?" Draco tilted his head a little. Harry thought. It wasn't Pansy, because she was downstairs. In fact, he saw every Slytherin girl he knew-
"It was Blaise, wasn't it?" Draco's mouth fell open of its own accord, and he turned his head away sharply, followed by his body. His feet marched themselves to the Forbidden Forest, with Harry running quickly behind him.
"I won't tell," Harry panted, as Draco started picking the fluxweed.
"I..." Draco sighed, "do what you will."
"What?" Harry was insulted at Draco's lack of threats, punches, hexes, glares and names. Was Draco really that indifferent towards Harry?
"I don't care anymore, I don't like Blaise, but he's easy," Draco added, "so am I."
Harry crouched next to Draco, and helped him pick the fluxweed. He smiled up the Slytherin boy every now and again, silently thanking the moon light for falling on his face in such a way that made Harry's heart turn on. Harry had an affection-erection.
"Hey, Harry!" Harry was talking to Hermione and Ron outside Potions, because Slughorn was late. Ginny came bounding down the corridor, like an enthusiastic puppy.
"Hi, Ginny!" Harry and Ginny had drifted apart, and broken up over the summer, but they still spoke... amongst other things. Ginny hugged Harry tightly, and before pulling away, whispered into his ear.
"Snape's Corridor, ten minutes?" She muttered lustily. Harry nodded, and squeezed her tightly before letting her go.
Draco wasn't in class, so when Harry left to find Ginny, he left Hermione in charge. Harry sprinted to the corridor nicknamed 'Snape's Corridor' by the students. It was between the Potion's classroom and the Slytherin dungeons, and though rarely used, it was a lot quicker between the two. Ginny was already there, her back pressed against the wall, her hair messy, and her pink lips parted. Harry grinned to himself when he saw her, and didn't even bother with 'hello'. He held Ginny at the waist, and kissed her on the lips, hard. Ginny giggled, and played with Harry's shirt as he kissed her. Smiling, Harry lifted Ginny up, so her legs were around his waist, and she was pressed against the wall.
"We don't have long," Ginny said, through a mouthful of tongue.
"I know," Harry bit Ginny's lip gently, and tugged. Harry continued kissing Ginny, and grabbing her behind, hard. All of a sudden, loud footsteps were heard, and Harry and Ginny's lips unlocked. "Shit," Harry whispered, and let Ginny down. He started buttoning his shirt back up, but he looked a sex-driven mess.
"Potter?" Draco stood at the other end of the corridor, an angry sneer on his face. Before Harry could say anything, Draco turned back around, and didn't go back to class.
"Where did you go?" Hermione asked over lunch.
"Bathroom," Harry lied easily.
"Liar," okay, maybe not easily.
"Okay, I saw Ginny." Harry lowered his voice, so Ron might not hear. He heard.
"What?!" Ron hissed. "That's my sister- you're not even- you don't like- I thought- men- D-Draco- last night- no- Ginny- bathroom- corridor- Snape's- I bet-" Ron spluttered out the makings of a few sentences, and Hermione translated.
"Ahem," she cleared her throat, "That's my sister, Harry; You're not even dating; You don't even like her; I thought you liked men; men like Draco; you went out with him last night; no, that's weirder; but Ginny; you said you were going to the bathroom; but you were in the corridor; Snape's Corridor, I bet." Hermione finished, and carried on eating.
"That!" Ron pointed between Hermione and Harry, still spluttering.
"Calm down," Harry said, sipping his pumpkin juice, "it was once."
Ron grunted, but Hermione wasn't finished. "I think that's why Draco didn't show. He saw you two because he was late for class, and took the supposedly empty short cut."
"Yeah," Harry looked sad, "that's it."
"Draco?" Harry had come back the next day, after dinner, to check on his potion. Draco was hunched over his and Harry's cauldron, staring intently at the contents. He barely looked up when Harry called his name.
"Yes?" With one eyebrow arched, Draco's hand beckoned Harry further into Slughorn's classroom.
"Why aren't you at lunch?" Harry asked, taking out an apple, and tossing it in the air.
"I thought someone had sabotaged our potion," Draco said, glaring bitterly at the copper cauldron. He screwed up his face, then sniffed. "It's clean," Draco nodded firmly, then pushed himself off the low, wooden table.
Harry took a chunk out the apple, and spoke through juicy flesh, "so, where were you yesterday?"
"The sight of you and She-Weasel made my breakfast come up," Draco sneered.
"You weren't at breakfast," Harry pointed out, and took another bite of apple.
"Where you watching me? Again?" Draco squinted accusingly.
"No! I wasn't watching you either times," Harry blushed.
"Hm, sure." Draco rolled his eyes sarcastically, and pushed past Harry. "Bye, Potter."
"Just continue with your written work today, class." Slughorn said, barely looking up. Apparently, he had to mark a lot of homework, and didn't want a huge noise whilst doing so. The class wasn't told to be silent, which was good, because Harry wanted to talk to Draco.
"I won't tell anyone," Harry whispered over his long scroll of parchment.
"What are you drivelling about, Potter?" Draco rolled his eyes, and straightened up, re-inking his quill.
"About Blaise," Harry uttered.
"You've already said that," Draco laughed quietly.
"Well, you won't believe me." Harry looked down sadly.
"Why wouldn't you tell? It's a perfect opportunity to get me in the bad books with just about everyone." Draco, too, looked away sadly.
"Yes, well, maybe I don't want you in anyone's bad books." Harry huffed, and didn't speak to Draco again for the rest of the lesson.
"Whilst the lacewing flies are brewing, why don't we do some sketching for the other ingredients?" Slughorn suggested, leaning on his desk, smiling as usual. Most of the class liked this idea, except Hermione, who growled and rolled her eyes. Harry laughed at this, and was glad that he wasn't the only poor artist in the class. Unlike Draco, who, as Harry then found out, was brilliant at art.
"Wow..." Harry looked over Draco's shoulder, and whistled admiringly. "That's," Draco had drawn a lacewing fly's wing, "amazing. Really," Harry grinned, then looked up at Draco. He wasn't listening, not ignoring. His hair had grown a little, and his fringe was flopping over his stormy, grey eyes. Harry felt a small tug in his stomach, and he knew what it meant. And he hated it.
"Thanks," Draco said after a minute. "Father quite likes my art, too, actually."
"I can see why," Harry wasn't paying much attention, because Draco had shifted so his head was on his arm, facing Harry.
"So," Draco said, putting his pencil down, "you really haven't told anyone?"
"Not a soul," Harry promised. Draco didn't say anything, but he smiled gratefully, and started doodling again.
Harry was bored, that's how it really started. When he was bored at night, he'd just accio some lads mags, and greet himself firmly, but no. Not that night. He fondled in his chest for the Mauraders Map, and opened it. Sitting on his bed, he searched. He saw where everyone was, and noticed that Ginny wasn't where she was supposed to be, and Hermione was in Ron's bunk with him. That bothered him a little, though Harry realised that wasn't his place to think. He looked in the Slytherin dungeons, and Draco wasn't there, so he must be in the Prefect's Tower. "I could...go see?" He decided.
Harry slipped under the cloak fully just outside the door, and snuck into the common room. He watched silently as Draco and Pansy were at each other's throats. Not literally, luckily, but near enough.
"Look, just admit it, Draco!" Pansy was trying not to shout. Her black hair had been plaited, and was messy, so Harry gathered that she'd been asleep not too long ago. "It's obvious! Even a Hufflepuff could work it out!"
"Shut up, Parkinson." Draco glared.
"Don't 'Parkinson' me, Draco Lucius Malfoy!" Pansy's fists were balled and shaking, and she was squaring up to Draco. "Don't be such a bloody prick! Admitting it is the first step to recovery." She nodded matter-of-a-factly.
"Being gay is not a problem to recover from!" Draco hissed, and folded his arms angrily.
"Tell that to Daddy," Pansy pouted, and she relaxed slightly. Harry, however, tensed up. "Look, gay is okay, I know that, Blaise clearly knows that...but really? I don't think our folks'll see it that way." Pansy shook her head, "I'm only bringing this up because I care."
"I know," Draco smiled weakly, and hugged Pansy. Usually, this may make Harry a little more green-eyed than usual, but he was smiling wider now. "Off to bed," Draco pinched Pansy's bum, laughing to himself, and watched as she trotted up the stairs. At that moment, Harry thought 'let's just reveal that I heard that conversation! Draco'll love that!' And so he did.
"Malfoy, hi." He shuffled awkwardly.
"Potter?" Draco jumped, then remembered to be angry. "How much did you hear?"
"Enough," Harry smiled smugly, "I won't tell."
"How can I even trust you?" Draco sighed heavily.
"How can you trust me? Not that saving your mother and yourself from Azkaban should help you make that decision." Harry turned to leave, but he felt Draco's ice cold hand on his shoulder.
"Harry," Harry blushed at the use of his given name, "I never thanked you..."
"Draco," Draco blushed at the use of his given name, "I never asked for thanks."
"Harry, would you like to be my," Draco cleared his throat, and extended his hand for Harry, "friend?"
Harry took Draco's hand, grinned, and shook it. "Drinks at the weekend?"
"Hog's Head?" Draco asked, slowly letting go of Harry's hand.
"Sure." Harry smiled, and waited for the weekend to hurry the hell up.
Hogsmeade was warm, for the time of year, and had a nice, light breeze. Harry went straight to the Hog's Head, ordered two butterbeers, and sat down in a secluded booth. Draco arrived a few minutes later, with two bars of chocolate in his hand. He threw one at Harry, who caught it, and smiled. His favourite. Cinnamon. Harry couldn't deny it, Draco was great. And right then, he looked bloody great too. He wore dark, skinny jeans, and a plain blue jumper. His Slytherin scarf was wrapped around his neck, but Harry could see a tiny, pink blush rising up in Draco's face. The pair chattered awkwardly, before Draco suggested, "exploding snap?"
"What's the catch?" Harry asked, downing his drink.
"Uh, loser has to answer one question of the winner's choice?" Draco smiled.
"Sure," Harry was confident that he would win.
Which he didn't. Harry frowned, and shifted nervously. "So, Mr Potter," Draco started, "tell me, are you in love with Ginny?"
"No," Harry muttered, and looked down, "I don't even like girls, that much."
"Oh?" Draco succeeded in not smirking. "So, guys?"
"Enough," Harry was blushing, but annoyed, too.
"I want to know, as friends," Draco said innocently.
"No," Harry said firmly.
"Is that why you watched Blaise do unspeakable things to me that night?" Draco raised one eyebrow, knowing he had the upper hand. If Harry didn't like Draco's cheekbones so much, he might have punched them.
"Goodbye, Malfoy." Harry stood up, left his chocolate, and walked all the way back to his bedroom.
"I overstepped the mark-"
"Shut up."
"I was out of order!"
"Piss off."
"Tell me why you watched, then I'll leave you alone!"
"Sod off, Malfoy."
_
The fourth day, Harry gave in. He was stood on the Prefect's Tower balcony, waiting for nothing in particular. Draco, as Harry had known, was watching him. Draco had been for a long time. He slowly stepped forward, and, before Harry had time to tell him where to go, he laid down a piece of paper. He didn't wait for Harry to look at them, because he didn't want to be there, so he just left, and sunk into his bed, teary eyed.
Harry didn't look at the paper until he got back into his own bedroom. When he turned them over, he found himself so shocked, he had to burst out laughing, just to get it out of his system. It wasn't funny, Harry thought, what Draco had left him. His mouth hung open, and he felt himself tearing up. It was clear Draco had drawn this, and Harry knew how personal that was. A broom stick, with Harry on one end, and Draco clinging onto Harry. Beneath them, was a messy room, with huge flames licking Harry and Draco's feet. Under the drawing, Draco had written as neatly as possible 'thank you, Harry, and sorry.'
"I'm sorry, Pansy," Harry was listening in to another one of Draco's conversations, "but it's him. I should tell him, and I'm sorry it doesn't fit in with your plan, but it's him."
"Draco, think this through!" Pansy begged, nearly on her knees.
"I have," Draco sighed, "trust me, I have. And it's him. It really is." Draco nodded, and smiled sadly. "Of all the men to love, eh, Pansy? It has to be Potter."
Harry hadn't let on that he knew. In fact, he kept quiet until the next week- the next Potion's class. Again, they were doing quiet work, so Harry had the perfect opportunity to talk to Draco. Or maybe not talk. Draco was, once again, not working, but doodling. His head lolled sadly, and his hand was the only thing that prevented it from dropping off, by the looks of things. Harry waited til everyone was at work, and Slughorn was occupied with a conversation with McGonagall. "Psst," Harry hissed at Draco. Draco looked up hopefully, and he looked like he was on the brink of tears. "I liked your drawing," Harry smiled shyly, "it was amazing." Draco opened his mouth, but shook his head, and looked back down at his empty parchment. Harry, knowing that this wouldn't work, decided to try his back up plan. When Draco rested (from doing nothing) and put both hands on his lap, and his head on the table, Harry took his chance. Slowly, barely looking down, Harry edged his hand closer and closer to Draco's. It took a few seconds, but Harry felt their little fingers touching, and that made him smile, and shiver with anticipation. In another few seconds, Harry had placed his entire hand over Draco's, and left it there, waiting for a reaction.
"Harry..." Draco breathed, looking up. Harry thought Draco was going to pull away, but instead, he turned his hand over, and locked it with Harry's.
"Draco?" Harry was shocked that this worked. His face paled, and his pupils dilated. "I heard what you said to Pansy last week," he sighed happily.
"Yeah," Draco blushed, "I know."
"Would you like to get lunch?" Harry asked, smiling.
"Of course, Mister Potter." Draco was grinning so much his jaw ached, but Harry suspected that he didn't care.
"You held my hand," Draco smiled over lunch, and crunched a lettuce leaf between his teeth.
"Yes," Harry had taken Draco out that very weekend, and they sat in a new cafe in Hogsmeade, quite happy that they were undetected and alone. "Please don't insult both of our intelligence's by asking why," Harry grinned, and took a bite out of his large baguette.
"I won't," Draco smirked, and carried on eating his salad. Harry not-so-subtly looked over at Draco, and smiled to himself.
"Draco," Harry edged, "would you," he cleared his throat, "be, uh," he looked down at his plate, took a sip of water, and continued, "be my uh," he coughed, "boyfriend?"
"Excuse me?" Draco teased, his eyes glinting.
"Don't be a prick!" Harry laughed, "you know what I asked."
Draco looked at Harry seriously, and his heart fluttered as the raven haired boy squirmed in discomfort. He leant over the table, softened his eyes, furrowed his brow, and breathed, "then you know my answer."