25 HarryxDraco Drabbles

By Yiji

Drabble 4 : Like

"Do you like sugar quills?"

"Too sugary. They're annoying to eat."

Swig. Pass.

"Do you like pumpkin juice?"

"I prefer Butterbeer."

Swig. Pass.

Harry had taken to hiding himself in the astronomy tower on Saturday evenings. With his thoughts to preoccupy himself with, as well as a full bottle of Ogden's Firewhisky to pass the time. This wasn't so bad, he got an evening all to himself to think about his imminent death at the hands of Voldemort. And to get completely shitfaced in the process, but hey, it hadn't bother him.

Until Malfoy had stumbled across his reverie and messed it up in the usual Malfoy-style. Oh, there had been insults and shouts flung at each other, no doubt about it, for their enmity over the years at Hogwarts had guaranteed an encounter of barbs and hatred.

It was only when Malfoy, face reddened from the screaming and voice hoarse, had run out of insulting acronyms to throw at him and had regarded him with that look. It was drawn and haunted and frightened, as though he had searched the entire castle for an empty place to sit and be alone. To confess him fears and anguish and horrors to the darkness.

So Harry waved him over, shifted a little so that Malfoy could sit beside him, and offered him the only recently-opened bottle of Firewhisky. The paler boy had coughed and spluttered at the first delicate sip, Harry could see he wasn't used to the strong liquor. Taking back the glass container, Harry took a long draught, keeping his eyes riveted on the grey ones next to him. The mouthful was longer than he'd ever had, and perhaps just that little bit boastful, but as he felt the spirits burn down his throat and gave the boy beside him a crooked grin, the meek smile that replied had been well worth the discomfort.

So they passed the bottle back and forth. They made an unspoken game of it, one person asking the other a question, the other answering it, a swig of Firewhisky, and the bottle passed between them. It started out simply at first, then progressed to 'Do you like' questions. Harry conceded that his evening was getting better with every sip of the fiery drink, and every question he answered truthfully. Even though the answers seemed trivial, it felt like innumerable, small weights were being taken off his shoulders with each answer. And Draco – not Malfoy anymore, but Draco – wasn't such bad company, either. It was Harry's turn to ask a question now.

"Do you like Charms?" he asked, passing the Slytherin the now half-empty bottle and resuming his leaning on the cool stone of the tower wall.

"It's okay, but sometimes it gets boring, especially when it's a theory class." Draco answered. He took a large mouthful, as if the liquor were fortifying him, and exhaled slowly. Almost fearfully, he turned his grey towards Harry and gave a nervous swallow.

"Do you… like me?" Draco asked, the pink tinge in his cheeks the result of something quite other than the effect of the alcohol.

There was a few moments of silence. Not the uncomfortable, eerie silence that Harry would have expected something like this to generate. Instead, it was a thoughtful, calm silence while he regarded the other boy.

"Yes."

Swig. Pass.