Monday, October 16, 2017

Harry shooed his students out the door a few minutes early, then stood hesitantly outside Draco's door, arm raised, poised to knock, debating with himself. He could just… leave. Turn around, walk back to his rooms. Out of the castle. Something. He hadn't promised Draco that he'd show. He didn't owe Draco anything. And yet.

The door opened, then, taking the decision from him. He stepped back to let the stream of giggling students pass, ignoring the pointing fingers and snickering from James' friends. He'd faced worse, after all, than a few stares.

Draco looked up as he entered, and the smile that lit up his face - admittedly still-pointy, though less so than it had been - made it all seem worthwhile. Harry felt a shiver run through him, as he realized that Draco could ask anything of him, and all it would take was that smile to make Harry agree.

"What is it?" Draco asked, stepping closer and peering anxiously down into Harry's eyes. "You had the strangest expression on your face just then."

"Hmm? Oh. It was nothing." Harry shrugged the disturbing thought away, using Draco's presence in front of him as a lodestone for his wandering thoughts. They snapped easily back to him, and Harry wondered how often he must have done this, for the shift to be so automatic.

Draco still looked concerned, but he accepted Harry's apology readily enough. "Thank you for coming." He looked… nervous, Harry decided, and wondered what on earth Draco had to be nervous about.

"Sure," he said absently, resisting the urge to poke about in Draco's cabinets, remembering the last time he'd done so. A soft melody drifted through the air, and it took him a moment to register the change.

"Malfoy?" he asked, looking up warily, "why is there music?"

Draco straightened from where he'd been bent over a small box, fiddling with a knob on its front. "Surely you know what dancing is, Potter? Even if you are a heathen?"

Harry felt his breathing quicken, his eyes widening in alarm. "I…I don't dance."

Draco snorted. "Well, after your poor excuse for proper dueling posture yesterday, it's not as if I'm surprised. Now. Come here."

Harry hesitated.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter!" Draco rolled his eyes. "How am I supposed to teach you proper dueling posture if you won't cooperate?"

"Dueling posture," Harry said pointedly.

Draco sighed. "Dancing posture is dueling posture, Potter. If you can learn one, you can learn the other."

"Malfoy…" Harry looked frantically around the room, hoping to find a convenient excuse for escape, but nothing was out of place. There were no students coming back to ask a question, or loitering to get into mischief. Draco was between him and the door. He was trapped.

"Come here, Potter." Draco's voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of command, and Harry's feet obeyed without him thinking about it. He forced himself to stop walking once he realized, but he had already crossed the room to stand in front of Draco.

Harry sighed. He didn't protest when Draco stepped even closer, nor when he reached out, claiming Harry's hands. He gulped when Draco placed one hand on his waist, gripping the other tightly in one cool, dry hand.

Harry's palms were sweating, and he had a near-overwhelming urge to wipe them on his pants, only Draco was still holding them. Then, Draco moved, drawing Harry along with him, and they were dancing.

"Potter!" Draco exclaimed, after Harry stepped on his toes for the fifth time in as many minutes, "have you ever danced before in your life?"

"Yes," Harry said stiffly, "At the Yule Ball. And at the wedding."

Draco cocked his head to the side, smiling oddly. "What, and Ginevra never asked you to dance with her again?"

Harry smiled sheepishly, trying to free one of his hands to scratch his neck, but failing. "Er, she said that if her toes ever recovered, she'd be sure to let me know."

Draco snorted out a surprised laugh. "And who did you dance with at the Yule Ball, Potter?"

"Patil." Harry grimaced at the memory.

"Ah. That's right." Draco frowned, suddenly, as if there was something about that memory that he found distasteful. Or… as if he were jealous?

"She also hinted that she might never recover," Harry offered, hoping to restore Draco's good mood.

Draco laughed delightedly, throwing back his head and tossing his spun-silk hair, which floated around his face like a dandelion puff as it slowly settled back to its normal style. "Poor Potter. Devastates the ladies with his dancing. No wonder you opted to try for wizards."

Harry winced. "Malfoy…"

Draco rolled his eyes. "All right, all right. That was a low blow, I suppose. Still." He broke off, glancing meaningfully down at his own toes, and then dissolved into snickers once more.


Tuesday, October 17, 2017

"What, again?" Draco asked, when Harry showed up at his classroom door the next day. He eyed the picnic basket meaningfully.

Harry hummed cheerfully. "Not exactly. Come on."

They had a splendid time, that evening, sitting by the lake and skipping stones across the inky waters as the sun sank below the horizon. Harry produced cloaks, as the sky darkened and the air chilled, and spread a blanket on the ground. They lay quietly, arms almost-but-not-quite touching, and watched the stars flicker into existence.

It was late, when they returned to the castle, walking in companionable silence, wrapped in the weight of the velvet night. Harry hated for the night to end, when it came time for them to part ways. He reached out to catch Draco's sleeve and opened his mouth, intending to ask Draco to - To what? he asked himself harshly, as he stared into grey eyes that divulged no more than did the murky waters of the lake. To come into his rooms? For a drink? A kiss? A fuck? He didn't know what he wanted, didn't know how to ask for it if he did. He closed his mouth silently, let his hand fall back to his side.

"Harry?" Draco asked, sounding worried.

Harry smiled, shaking his head softly, letting Draco ascribe whatever meaning he wanted to that exchange. Likely, he'd not think it meant anything at all.

Harry wasn't sure whether that's what he wanted or not, but he supposed he didn't really have a choice. He nodded awkwardly to Draco, then turned and slipped into his room, shutting the door behind him without looking back. He didn't want to know if Draco watched him. Or if he didn't.


Thursday, October 26, 2017

"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Harry knew Draco wasn't on duty this weekend - he'd checked, none-too-subtly, with Minerva earlier. But there wasn't any rule about whether professors could go; most just chose not to, or chose to go on weekends when the stores weren't swarming with students.

"Nah," Draco said dismissively. "I'm not on duty, and I don't particularly want to spend my weekend with the hordes - I see enough of the brats during the week."

Harry knew, now, that he wasn't serious. Draco loved his students, loved teaching - was good at it, even. Better than Harry, certainly, who just didn't seem to have the knack of relating to his students the way Draco seemed to. Just one more thing in a very long list of things Draco was better at, Harry thought, rather more bitterly than he meant to.

"Good" he said, simply, and tossed something at him. Draco snatched it out of the air automatically, then looked at what he held in surprise.

"A snitch?"

Harry shot him what he knew was a lopsided grin. "Got your broom?"

"Yes…"

"Well, then. Meet me at the quidditch pitch. Ten minutes?"

"But…"

"I'll see you there, Malfoy." Harry saluted him cheerfully and swung his own broom over his shoulder, heading for the locker rooms. He still had a set of quidditch leathers, thanks to Ginny; he'd stowed them there earlier that day.

When he made it out to the pitch, properly outfitted, it was to find Draco sporting a similar kit.

"Nice uniform," Harry said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Draco smirked.

"Yours too, Potter. Shall we?" He waved the snitch

Harry grinned. "Go for it, Malfoy."

Draco activated the snitch, tossed it into the air. Their eyes met in one blazing instant of perfect harmony, and then they were off, soaring into the air and chasing the glint of gold.


When they finally returned to earth, several seeker's games later, it was to find the pitch littered with a sea of red and green. Most of their houses had learned of their impromptu game, it seemed, and had turned out to watch. Even most of those who had gone to Hogsmeade were there. Harry cast a quick tempus and was startled to find that it was later than he'd realized. He caught Draco's eye, noting that their two houses seemed to get along much better, of late, and they shared a secret, delighted grin between them.

"Until next time, Malfoy," Harry said, clapping Draco on the back.

Draco's grin widened into a smirk. "Indeed, Potter."

They wound their way back to the castle at the head of a strangely slithering snake of red and green.