Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Warnings: None.
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Perfect Day
The ink spilled on Harry's just-finished Potions assignment. He glared down at it. It had been perfect! Well… as perfect as his potions assignments ever were, anyway. Which meant that it had been pretty average work, actually, but whatever.
He got past it. He got the work done and turned it in and knew that it would never be as good as it had been, but it didn't matter. Who cared, anyway? It was just Potions; it wasn't like it was a class that actually mattered to him, like Defense.
He tripped going to breakfast the next morning, twisting his ankle. That made him late to Potions anyway, which made Snape glower darkly at him over the cauldron he was looming over. Well, there was nothing he could do about it. Besides, it wasn't like Harry had tripped on purpose. And anyway, he was in pain. Who would voluntarily put themselves in pain just to get out of one stupid class? He might hate it, but it wasn't worth all that.
When dinner rolled around, Ron jostled his pumpkin juice while gesturing madly at something or another, leaving Harry soaked in the liquid. He just sighed and didn't say a word. After all, his day thus far had sucked, so what did this even matter? At least it didn't hurt.
He just finished eating, ignoring the way he reeked of the orange… what the fuck even was a pumpkin, anyway?
After dinner, he told his friends that he was going to the library, claiming that he had homework. He didn't, of course, but they didn't know that. Instead, he detoured to the seventh floor, where he paced until the Room of Requirement appeared. Draco was waiting for him there, in a replica of a bedroom that Harry had never seen but assumed was Draco's own, grinning at him with something like sympathy from where he lounged on the bed.
"Shit day?" his boyfriend asked, his eyes sparkling.
Harry didn't say a word. He just crawled into Draco's arms and clung. The day had been perfect. He didn't know what Draco was talking about.