Prompt: Harry & Daphne with Dramione in the background.
"Will you shut it for once in your ridiculous and disappointingly lengthy life?" Hermione snapped at Draco, after listening to him and Ron argue about the merits of the Falmouth Falcons for what seemed like forty years. His latest closing argument had included a casual insult about her teeth.
He cast her a haughty look. "You have no idea how lucky you are to have someone like me brightening your life up, Granger. If you get on my good side, I might even provide you with some hair care tips. You sorely need it."
Ron had to restrain her from physically attacking him as she seethed, "You annoying little ferret!"
Harry bit back a chuckle at the scene, and felt a shoulder bump into his. He glanced to his right, his smile widening, and shifted his hand to lace his fingers around his fiancee's. The ring he'd presented her just a week prior glittered on her dainty hand like a charm.
"You think they'll ever figure it out?" Daphne murmured, tilting her head towards Hermione and Draco. They were still squabbling around Ron, who was holding them both apart with a resigned expression.
He'd been unlucky enough to be caught sitting between them, or so he assumed. In reality, Harry and Daphne had quickly selected the end seats to avoid the ensuing fight. They'd just wanted to sit back, relax, and enjoy Ginny's game without having tomediate. "Well, I can't blame them. God knows we were pretty slow on the uptake, ourselves," he said back, still watching as Hermione threatened to throw her Butterbeer on Draco's exquisitely tailored suit.
"To be fair, we were both in a relationship. Not exactly looking," she pointed out, laughing quietly.
"True," he whispered, his eyes moving towards the field. Ginny zipped past the stands, her red ponytail a banner streaming from her helmet. He stood with everyone else and roared, pumping his fists in the air as she intercepted the Quaffle.
Draco had been the first to notice his girlfriend's affinity for Potter. In a move that shocked everyone, he had simply shrugged it off, wishing her the best. Ginny had been a much tougher sell; she'd been in love with Harry since she was a kid, after all. Thankfully, after six straight months of presents, apologies, and pleading for forgiveness, she'd accepted them both back into the fold. Daphne, the Slytherin goddess she was, had patched things up admirably and they were very nearly best friends, now.
Things still got a little weird with Harry, though. He supposed he couldn't blame her. He felt it, too – that ghost of the future that could have been.
He didn't think he would have been unhappy.
But, sitting down and looking at his future wife, he found himself glad. Daphne Greengrass was an icy woman with a molten interior, like a badly microwaved frozen burrito, and he loved her with an intensity that sometimes bordered on scary. When Draco had befriended Ginny years prior, all he remembered of his interactions with Daphne was nonstop bickering and poking and cold insults.
Maybe that was just the Slytherin way. Harry glanced at Draco as he made another sharp remark about Hermione's hair. It hadn't escaped his notice that the teasing had intensified massively since Ron and Hermione had ended things just a few months prior.
He squinted at Draco from the corners of his eyes as Hermione bristled and turned to shout at him. There was a liveliness in Draco's eyes that he hadn't seen since fourth year. A spark – of something.
"I think he already knows," Harry whispered in Daphne's ear.
She smiled, squeezing his hand. "You know, to be honest, I think the only one thatdoesn't know yet is Hermione. Ron looks awful sick of having to sit in the middle of their violent flirting."
"I feel a little bad for making him sit there," he admitted, pushing his glasses up his nose.
Her blue eyes met his. "Not bad enough to switch, though, right?" she asked, her nose wrinkling. She wanted to be in the middle of it about as badly as Ron did.
"I said I felt bad, not masochistic."
Daphne sighed in relief and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder contentedly.
Quotes: None in prompt!