The Easter holidays had just ended, and Harry was in good spirits after being able to spend so much extra time with Draco. They'd even visited the Burrow again for Easter Sunday and Molly had been elated. Arthur had also managed to corner Draco into looking at all of his muggle objects and listening to his speculations about their uses.
After an hour and a half, Harry finally took pity and told them that Minerva had some sort of meeting scheduled that they really couldn't miss.
Draco had breathed a sigh of relief once they'd escaped.
In the laziness of coming back after a holiday, Draco had thrown on a Weasley Jumper under his cloak, not thinking anyone would see it. Of course that was the day Scotland chose to have a warm spell. The castle was sweltering, even down in his dungeon classroom.
He unclasped his cloak while his students were busy brewing, hoping to cool off a bit even if the jumper was ugly.
"Are you wearing Professor Potter's jumper?" a Gryffindor student asked.
"No." He snapped, as he looked down and saw that he was, in fact, wearing Harry's jumper. He regretfully put his cloak back on and fastened it firmly. He guessed he would just have to suffer the heat.
"What's the 'H' stand for then?" another student chimed in.
Draco shot them an icy glare.
"Heart-stopping." He deadpanned.
As was all too often in his class, the students weren't entirely sure if Professor Malfoy was making a joke about his own good looks, or if he was actually making a threat on their lives.
They were very well behaved for the remainder of class. Just in case.
The end of the year came quickly, and with it came the transformation of many Seventh Years from giggly, joking messes to tearful ones. Although this particular group had had a special knack for pissing both Harry and Draco off from the beginning (as well as being the ones that spread ninety percent of the rumours - and facts - about their relationship), the two teachers felt they had a closer connection with them. Of course that was probably because many of the Seventh Years were constantly lurking (and had been since the beginning of the previous year), and they say proximity breeds affection.
The morning after the end of year feast, Harry found a leather bound book on his office desk when he went to retrieve the last of his classroom belongings. 'We Will Go down With This Ship (Hogwarts Class Of 2007)' was embossed on the front cover.
Confused, he flipped open to the front page.
"This is our final present to you both. We may never see you again except in the Prophet, so we (as a class) would like you to have something to remember us by. Many thanks to Professor Malfoy for the suggestion last year.
"Several of us have been utterly devoted to your relationship since the very beginning (even before you yourselves were), and we will remain staunchly dedicated to it. So:
"We, the class of 2007, have decided to compile a book of reasons why you are both dorks and extremely bad at hiding your relationship from even the Firsties, but still somehow think you can deny it because you think everyone else is more oblivious than you, and that just because the staff are too polite to say anything means they don't notice - and trust me, they notice, and all of us notice too.
"I (Laurie Clarents) personally wanted that to be the title, but Simon vetoed it. Shame really. Several people also pointed out that it was grammatically incorrect, but hey why do you need grammar if you have magic?"
The handwriting changed.
"Let's eat Simon. Let's eat, Simon."
Laurie's writing returned.
"Touché, Simon. But get off of my page.
"So, without further ado, I guess I present our farewell masterpiece."
Harry stared at the book, dumbfounded. They weren't serious, were they? He flipped through the book (over a hundred pages!), and saw page after page of varying handwriting with signatures at the bottom of each anecdote. Some were titled, and some had small doodles. It was terribly embarrassing that they'd managed to do this, but it was also terrifyingly impressive.
Harry shoved the book into his cloak and gathered up the remaining things in his classroom. He had to share this with Draco.
As soon as he reached the dungeons, he took out the book.
"Draco, I found a-"
Harry's speech cut off as he was grabbed tightly around the middle. Draco turned around to see what had happened.
A tall Seventh Year Slytherin girl was hugging him, and Harry looked shocked.
"I'm sorry," she said a bit tearily, "but I just saw you guys in here and I had to say goodbye again. I'm going to miss both of you so much! You're amazing teachers."
She released Harry and walked over to hug Draco tightly. He awkwardly patted her back.
"I'm not the only one either." She turned and saw Harry holding the book.
"Oh good, you found it! You'll see when you read it. You're both see easy to mess with and tease, but it's all out of love. Read the book, and don't forget that it was us that started this ship."
"Ship?" Draco questioned.
"Relationship. We're the ones that gave you the present that made you realise you were meant for each other." She looked at the clock. "Bugger, I don't want to miss the train. The rest of the Seventh Years send their love." As she left, she flicked her wand over her shoulder, and they both turned to watch the trail of magic.
Words began to appear on the blackboard. Out in the hall, Serena heard Draco laugh loudly, and she smiled before quickly heading for the main castle doors for the last time. It had been a good run.
The words on the blackboard were in a gorgeous calligraphy, the beauty of which was undermined by the words themselves.
[By the by, the Fourth Years wouldn't look either of you in the eyes for weeks because they knew you had sex on Valentine's. Very clever kids, although they had Lydia's help in their sleuthing. They were v. uncomfortable, it was great. Just goes to show you shouldn't snoop if you don't want the answers.
P.S.
Salmon rose petals. Classy, Potter. Professor Malfoy was much sneakier with his flower choices, but that's not all that surprising...Slytherin. (Although he was not sneaky enough, as they had it all figured out before dinner. All without help, too, those smart little things).
P.P.S.
Not, I might add, that Professor Malfoy was very sneaky when he publicly asked for sex in front of hundreds of children and all of his colleagues with the aid of one damning flower petal and an eyebrow raise. Also v. classy. You're kicking yourselves now, aren't you? (If you aren't, you should be. Esp. Professor Malfoy. Slytherin title is about to be taken away with how not-sneaky you've become).]
"I'm impressed, I didn't even see her doing the wandwork for this, and it must've all been nonverbal. This is some seriously complicated magic. It's beautiful," Draco said, once he had finished laughing.
"While it is impressive magic, did you not read it?"
"Oh, I read it, but clearly they've known for awhile. We're really bad at hiding things, apparently. Still, doesn't mean we have to confirm anything."
"Draco, you just said they already know. Why would we even bother to continue to pretend?"
"Pure spite. If it weren't for all the little bastards that think they're detectives around here I would've just been straightforward when we first started dating."
"Hmm, actually, yeah. I could get on board with that."