Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me—yadda, yadda, yadda. I cry.
Warning: Profanity. Draco and Ron fights.
A/N: Dedicated to I. am. who. I. am. 987, Sierra Wood, HoistTheColours89, mihori, and Angel Rose Potter (all these lovelies who've reviewed) and to those who've fave'd Green and Silver.
The title is so unique, right? lol, no.
Red and Gold
by Dracofides
It has been several weeks since everyone's talk about the weirdest couple of the year died down. Many accepted it, and the others who did not were sent to the hospital wing by the couple's aggressive Housemates. Surprisingly, it was they who have accepted the news wholeheartedly. Harry and Draco had supposed their Housemates' reaction to their relationship to be the worst, but their worrying was for nothing.
Everything was back to normal after the threatening from the Housemates and students being sent to the hospital wing stopped. The only weird thing was Professor Snape's new behavior towards Harry. Since Draco is his godson, Professor Snape was trying to warm up to the Potter boy. The key word was trying. He still gutted points from the Gryffindor House as much as he could, but most of it was because of only Ron and not both Harry and him. Harry was relieved about that.
Now that everyone knew about them, Draco and Harry spend their time together in each other's common room in full view and not in secret anymore. There was no protest coming from the rival houses. The Slytherins quite liked Harry and felt like the boy belonged to them in some way as he was the Slytherin Prince's boyfriend and he got a bit of Slytherin in him by almost being placed there. The Gryffindors were neutral to Draco. Sometimes one Lion will cry out "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" or "Why is a Malfoy in Gryffindor?" but then some other Gryffindor would remind him, and the Lion who cried out would shrug in response and go on their merry way.
Draco was sitting on Harry's bed, sighing at his boyfriend's antics. His arms were supporting his weight as he leaned on the bed. Harry was trying to persuade him to wear his red and gold uniform for the umpteenth time that day while the rest of Harry's Gryffindor roommates were playing Exploding Snap. They were secretly listening on their conversation; Draco could tell. They looked rather amused at his situation.
"Harry, for the last time, I absolutely refuse to wear your ridiculous House's colors!" Draco wrenched Harry's grip on him, trying to keep a distance from the Gryffindor and the clothes he was holding.
"But, Draco," Harry whined. "I wore yours!"
"That was entirely your fault," Draco deadpanned. "I had nothing to do with that."
Harry huffed, folded his arms across his chest, and pouted. "You didn't tell me when I came rushing to Potions! And Snape—Oh, Merlin—the horror!" He acted out shivering in disgust.
"You ran away before I could inform you." Draco rolled his eyes. "Besides, because of your stupidity and that occurrence, we were able to tell the school about us."
"Wished it never happened," Weasley muttered.
Oh, right. Only Ronald Bilius Weasley in all of Hogwarts was brave enough to vocalize his refusal to acknowledge their romance. He supported Harry, yes, but he did not like his choice of men—or rather, just Malfoy. Every time Malfoy was near the redhead, and out of Harry's ear shot, the hotheaded Gryffindor used that time to threaten the blond to never hurt Harry. If Draco so much pluck a strand of Harry's hair or stub a toe on Harry's feet, Weasley would castrate him, humiliate him, and kill him or all three of them. Heck, if Harry was to trip on air or to fall down a step and Draco was not fast enough to catch him, he would be dead to the ginger-haired Gryffindor.
One time Weasley had caught a glimpse of a hickey on Harry's neck. He smacked Malfoy's face so hard that day that it bruised and then he turned his beautiful platinum blond hair to red. Freaking red! The dye had not come out for a week. A bloody week! Sure he had gotten back with a hex of his own, but Draco did not want to go through that ever again. If that was the ginger's response to a hickey, what would he do to Draco if he finds out the boy lost his virginity to him? So Draco was extra, extra careful with what he does or says to Harry in front of Harry's best friend.
"Oh, come off it, Ron," said Finnigan. "When will you ever lay off Malfoy?"
"Never. Not even if he married Harry and turned seventy!" Weasley snapped back.
"M-married?" Harry blushed. "Ron, when will the two of you ever be less hostile to each other?"
"Never," both Draco and Weasley responded in unison. They sent daggers at each other with all their hatred. This was one thing they could agree about. Other things they could agree together would be all Harry-centered.
Harry sighed. "I just don't want the day I get to choose between the two of you to happen."
"It won't, Harry," Draco said, standing up from Harry's bed and making his way to the boy, "if Weasley would just apologize for hitting me and turning me into one of his disgusting family members."
Weasley gritted his teeth. "You deserved that punch! You bruised Harry! And fuck off about my family."
"It was a fucking hickey! I'm sure you've given Granger some," Draco retorted then added, "I can say whatever I want about your poor, low-class family."
"Don't bring Hermione into this!" Weasley grunted. "And you shouldn't be giving Harry hickeys so early in your relationship! Actually, don't give him any at all." He completely ignored Draco's comment on his family.
"Harry and I had been together long before the whole school found out! I will pleasure him however way he wants. You, on the other hand, were too busy exchanging spit with Granger to notice that he was with me!" Draco hissed back in reply.
Weasley huffed. "Exchanging spit? It's called snogging, you dolt! You and Harry had better not be doing anything like that!"
"Why should it matter to you what I do with Harry, Weasley? You're not his bloody keeper!" Draco narrowed his eyes.
"Fuck you, I am his Keeper," Weasley sassed, "And his best friend! Of course, I'm looking out for him."
How dare he fucking—
"Not in a million years will I fuck your freckled arse, Weasley!" Draco sneered in disgust. "When I meant keeper, I didn't mean Quidditch! You're not looking out for him; you're babying him!"
"Maybe babying him is the right thing to do. I'm his family anyway! And you're nothing to hi—"
"Stop it!" Harry screamed. Tears from his eyes were at the verge of falling. "Just stop it! I don't want to talk to any of you until you both apologize to each other."
He pushed Draco away from him and marched to his bed. He sent the two of them a final glare and closed the curtains. Harry did not place any silencing charms, and they could hear his sobs. There was a silence in the room. Draco and Weasley were shocked. Finnigan, Thomas, and Longbottom were deadly silent too. Then it dawned to them what had happened.
"Shit," Weasley cursed and approached the bed. He tried to pry the curtains open, but it would not bulge. "Mate, I'm sorry."
Draco did the same, standing on the other side of the bed, away from Weasley. "Harry, love, I'm sorry too."
"Go away!" His crying did not cease, and that felt like someone grabbed Draco's heart and squeezed it painfully.
"Fuck, Weasley, what the hell are we going to do?" Draco hissed.
Weasley pointed a finger to himself. "Me? You fucking started it!" He directed the pointed finger at Draco.
"What the fuck? You started it!"
"Guys," Longbottom mumbled, but they ignored him.
"I didn't start anything." The ginger walked up to Draco and stabbed his finger in Draco's chest.
Draco slapped the hand away. "Do not fucking poke me."
"Guys," Longbottom spoke up again.
"I can do whatever I bloody want to you since you fucking hurt my best friend!"
"I hurt him? You were in it too, bloody hypocrite."
Longbottom sucked in a breath then bellowed out, "GUYS!"
"What?" Draco and Weasley stopped to look at the boy who shouted.
"The fighting doesn't help," Longbottom remarked. "Why can't you two just work it out?"
"Yeah," Thomas backed up. "Just make up."
"Or make out, whatever," Finnigan joked with a small smile. Then he turned serious, "You cunts better cheer Harry up or else." He fetched his wand out of his pocket and aimed it at them.
Draco knew Finnigan's history with his failed spells turning to explosion. Draco did not want to be a pile of dust, thank you very much. He faced Weasley, a grim look on his face, and mumbled an apology. He was doing this for Harry, he thought.
"What was that, Malfoy?" Weasley gave him a smug look
"Don't make me repeat it again, Weasley," Draco sneered.
Weasley sighed and muttered back his part of the apology.
Draco smirked, "That wasn't so bad, right, Weasley?"
"Shut up," Weasley grunted and neared Harry's bed again. He knocked on the bed post. "Harry? We've apologized to each other now."
The boy did not answer, but he was still sobbing. Draco moved toward the bed and reached out to forcibly open the curtains, but it was still spelled shut. Harry was still mad at them. Draco would not apologize to Weasley again. Ever. But he could not find a reason other than that for Harry to be still mad at the two of them. All of a sudden he remembered what they were talking about earlier before his fight with Weasley. It was worth the shot. No matter how much he did not want to do it.
"H-Harry?" Draco stammered. Weasley stopped his asking for forgiveness and listened in.
"Babe, I just want to tell you: I love you so much, and I would do anything for you."
Draco could hear Harry's sobs calming down. Thinking this was a good sign, he continued, "Yes, love, anything. That includes wearing the damn uniform."
The four other Gryffindors gasped. Draco sent them a glare and turned back his attention to the bed when Harry peeked from the small gap he made in the curtains.
"Really?"
His voice was full of hope, and those green eyes, not at all red even from the crying they have heard him make, stared at him with plead. He was biting his bottom lip, looking at Draco expectantly.
Draco nodded, giving in to the look.
Harry grinned and stepped out of the bed. He let out a giggle. Grabbing his extra Gryffindor uniform from the bed where he had placed them, he smirked at him.
"I figured you would do that, Draco," he snickered again.
Draco and the Gryffindor roommates looked dumbfounded at this revelation. Harry grabbed Draco and began to undress him.
"What a devil," whispered Longbottom.
The other three whispered back a chorus of agreement.
Draco could not help but see eye to eye with the Gryffindors. His boyfriend was such a Slytherin.
Sooner than it should have taken, Draco was dressed and he felt sick. The colors did not suit him at all. It clashed horrible with his almost white blonde hair and his pale skin and his silver eyes. The uniform was snug on Draco, unlike how it felt for Harry wearing his uniform. Draco sighed. The robe was hard to move on since it was very tight around the arms. Damn, Harry was so skinny. The trousers were a few inches above where it was suppose to be. He was taller than Harry by a few inches. The tie was sloppy. He reached to fix it when Harry slapped his hand away from it, thinking he was going to remove it.
Harry beamed at him brightly. "Well, how is it?"
Draco saw that Weasley and Finnigan were having a laughing episode while Thomas and Longbottom just smiled at him. He clenched his fists. He was never going to do this ever again.
"When can I remove this?"
"Until the end of the day when all your Housemates see you on it in the common room," Harry answered.
Damn.
Draco tugged on the jumper and sighed. "Can I at least have space to breathe?"
Harry hummed. Fetching his wand from his pocket, he spoke, "Is that an insult to my being, love?"
"Not at all," Draco replied as Harry spelled his own clothes from Draco to fit him, "you are simply shorter and smaller in figure than I."
"I see. You are just fatter."
"I am not!"
Harry laughed, glancing at the clock on his bedside, and turned to his friends. "Doesn't class start in a few minutes? We better hurry."
He approached Draco and gave him a kiss on his cheek, ignoring Ron's gagging at the side, and gestured for them to leave. The Gryffindors scrabbled to follow Harry as the boy left the room.
Now alone in the dorm room, Draco inhaled deeply and then exhaled loudly.
He was fucked.
…
Draco had encountered a few gaping Gryffindors on his way out of their common room. Draco disregarded them and left quickly. Surely rumors would have started by then, and Draco would not want to hear them so early in his torture.
Draco was glad that on his way to the dungeons for Potions class, he did not encounter anyone. It was ironic that not long ago, it was Harry in his Slytherin uniform he was chasing after on their way to class. Now, it was he who is wearing Harry's. Draco was sure Harry had planned it so that it was coincidental to the way it happened to the Gryffindor. Professor Snape was going to die of a heart attack.
Damn and he was late too. All alone in his humiliation. Curse Harry to hell.
Harry was already seated in his seat when Draco entered the classroom. The whole classroom went quiet and Professor Snape stood there, gaping at him.
"Mr. Malfoy, what abomination are you wearing?"
Draco sighed. "Harry's clothes, sir. In his insistence."
"One would think you could have turned down his plead like the past refusals you have given him," Professor Snape stated wryly.
Draco spluttered, unable to answer. He could not just give his reason that Harry had out-Slytherin him. It was a blow to the pride for a Slytherin to be out-smarted by a Gryffindor, with the exception of Granger. She did not count.
Someone from the back giggled and the same person shouted, "Whipped!" That sent the rest of the class to erupt with laughter.
Draco stood there, embarrassed. He sent a glare to that person and a similar look to his boyfriend who laughed it off. He was lucky the boy was adorable and gorgeous, or else Draco would have hexed him.
Draco sat himself next to Theodore who was eyeing him and snickering behind his hand. Draco rolled his eyes and kicked the boy in the shin and that shut him up.
The class continued on with Professor Snape's narrowed dark eyes watching his every move and with Draco feeling a dozen pair of eyes on him and feeling the smug coming off from Harry. Slytherin had not lost points at all in this event. Ronald Weasley had no complaint, for Malfoy's humiliation filled in the gaps of the bitterness.
…
Draco stormed out of the last period of the day. He was fuming for yet again he was asked for the umpteenth time by a professor on the reason for his attire, and the same comments from the rather redundant rival House were broadcasted. It created the same reaction as it did the first time, and it annoyed Draco to the brink.
He rushed to the direction of the Great Hall, not caring on whom he bumped. He was spent and famished, and all he wanted to do was get the day over with, finish his part of the deal, and remove Harry's clothes from his person.
The chattering from the Hall ceased when he had entered. Draco gave them all an icy glare which made them start their conversations again, probably discussing about the famous topic of the day. Draco avoided the small laughter from the Gryffindor bunch and made his way to his seat next to Blaise.
Blaise greeted him, and Draco muttered a small greeting back. Blaise shrugged and continued to talk with Pansy who eyed the red and gold. Draco rolled his eyes at her, digging on his food, completely tuning out everybody's conversations.
"Guess we don't need to check on the collar to know whose clothes those belong to!" Someone shouted from the opposite side of the room.
Laughter ensued.
Draco narrowed his eyes and identified the person from Gryffindor and a first year at that. That Lion has far too much courage. Draco glared daggers behind the boy's back, and the Gryffindor first year must have felt it since he tensed up and faced Draco. The blond stared at the boy's nervous face, memorizing its features, hoping to plot revenge in the near future. The boy turned away quickly, and Draco felt a satisfied smirk on his face.
Dinner was over. Draco went with his Housemates to go back to the dungeons. He heard Harry say his farewells to his other halves and jogged in his way to stand beside Draco. Draco ignored the Gryffindor, who chose to pout about it. They were silent in their way to the Slytherin Common Room; nothing but the sounds of padding feet were heard.
The Slytherins did not bother to whisper the password. They trusted Harry not to let any of his Gryffindor friends inside. When Draco entered the common room and the door slid shut, the Slytherins chose that moment to let out all their restrained mirth about Draco's predicament. Harry was amongst them, laughing along, arms around Theodore who made it quite obvious he loved the boy's company and wrapped his own arms around Harry, tears at the brink from laughing too hard.
"Who would have thought—," Blaise chuckled, "Draco would—" He bellowed out another laugh.
Draco stared at his Housemates with a pained expression. He lifted a hand to cradle his throbbing head. There were times like this that the Slytherins let go every bit of their stuck up attitudes and burst their feelings out of their chest and into the surface for all fellow Housemates to see. Seeing Harry so comfortable with his Housemates, it felt like a miracle since it was not long ago that the Slytherins were not so subtly hiding their discomfort when they saw the Golden Boy in Draco's clothes and not so long ago they were just warming up to the idea of the Gryffindor in their common room.
Draco sighed. "Are you dunderheads done yet?"
"Hold on, Snape," Pansy breathed out, wiping a tear in her eye.
"I hope you have your fun, love," Draco called out to Harry, "I'm taking this off now."
"No, wait!" Blaise was still laughing. "Let me take a picture and send it to your father."
"NO!" Draco screamed and laughter yet again followed. He did not want to go home to his parents grinning ear to ear. His father would never stop to relieve the photo. His mother would show it to the guests. It would be their own personal blackmail. He marched up to his dorm room, ignoring Pansy's comment about a pensieve and Harry's shout for him to come back.
Draco stared at himself in his wall mirror, spelling the talking mirror into silence, and furrowed his perfect blonde eyebrows. He shook his head then began to undress his boyfriend's clothes carefully. The red really did not suit him.
He felt arms circle around him when he finished dressing into a pair of green silk pajamas. A head rested on his back, and the person hummed.
"Are you quite done making me the laughing stock of my House, Harry?"
"Am I?" The Gryffindor mumbled back cheekily.
Draco slapped the boy's arms that were still around his middle. The arms recoiled and Harry rubbed the abused area.
"So mean, Draco," Harry pouted.
Draco laughed and led his boyfriend to his bed, pushing the boy's chest to lay him down. He stranded Harry's waist and caged the boy's head with his long arms, trapping him. He inclined forward, lips almost touching.
"You're lucky I love you," Draco breathed out in Harry's face.
Harry rolled his eyes then prodded himself up with his elbows. Draco leaned back, barely missing those lips from touching his.
"I've been lucky my whole life, what can I say?" Harry replied. "I love you, too."
Harry lied down on the bed and wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and his legs were spread out. He neared Draco's face again to his, their noses touching.
"Now kiss me, you fool."
The End
A/N: I apologize for ending it there. I just really needed to get this done and over with. I am just so busy with choir, but this thing kept on bugging me. This is longer than the first one. And took me shorter to write, too. Also, that last line—I WAS LARRY AF. Sorry not sorry. Anyways, thanks for reading! Reviews are love.
