Tw: mentions of self-harm

Ron skips down the corridor to Draco's bedroom. They hold various scraps of paper, two quills, and a box of tissues for the cold they've acquired over the last few days. He reaches the top of the staircase and gives three loud knocks.

There's no reply for a minute, and as their eyes wander around, they spot a note halfway under the door. He picks it up and reads over the familiar handwriting.

I've gone to sort something out, if I'm not back by the time you arrive then let yourself in. I'll try not to be long. - :)

If you're reading this and wondering who it's addressed to, it's not for you so go away.

Ron smiles and pushes the door open, setting the note down on the table along with his box of tissues and paper. He nestles into the sofa, wrapping the red blanket tightly around him and burying himself in the cushions. Everything smells so gloriously Draco.

They sit there for a few minutes, then decide they should be getting on with some work. It wasn't their best decision to leave tomorrow's herbology homework until the night before.

Ron's sleeve slides up his arm as he reaches forward to get the paper off the table. Catching a glimpse of their lower arm, they can see the scars are fading. He never went too deep there, they should heal completely in a few weeks. His legs are another matter, however.

There's no issue, per se, Ron thinks as he flicks to the right page. There's no burning problem in his life turning him to self-destruction. Apart from the bouts of gender dysphoria and overall crushing anxiety, his life is going fine.

He hears the thudding of footsteps approaching the door, and Draco enters. Currently, his life is going more than fine.

"Ron!" says Draco.

"Hi," Ron smiles at his excited face.

"Did you see the note?" he says.

"Yes, I did."

"Made yourself at home, I see."

He grins at Ron snuggled up cosily on the sofa in front of the roaring fire and goes to join them.

"It's nice and warm in here," says Ron. "The dorm was bloody freezing."

"I made you soup," Draco says, pulling out two paper cups filled with orange mush from under the table. "I thought you could use it, you know, with the cold. It always makes me feel better when I'm ill."

"How did you know I have a cold?" asks Ron as Draco passes him a spoon.

"We do go to the same school, you know," Draco says, bringing a large spoonful of the soup to his lips. "I've seen you around, sniffling."

"I almost didn't come today," they say. "In case I passed my bug onto you."

"I wouldn't worry about that. I've got an immune system of steel."

Ron picks up the spoon. "Did you make this yourself?"

"Yeah, I did. It's carrot and tomato. I stole the recipe from the kitchens but swapped out the chicken for carrot."

"I didn't know you were a chef."

Draco watches them take a sip. "I'm not. It's blended vegetables, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"It tastes good," Ron nods, taking another sip. "Thanks, Draco."

"You're going to taste like carrots when I kiss you now," Draco smirks, leaning closer to Ron.

"Who said you were going to kiss me? I've got work to be getting on with, you know."

Draco glances dubiously at the pile of papers. "Don't tell me that's the herbology we had three weeks to do."

Ron smiles sheepishly. "It might be."

"You brought that so you could do homework instead of kiss?"

Ron raises their eyebrows at the mournfulness in his tone. "Draco, I'm going to get in so much trouble if I don't finish this," they say. "I know I'm stupid for not doing it before, but I'm doing it now."

"I'll just sit over here alone and sad then."

"Fine, fucking hell," Ron sighs, secretly pleased as they shuffle closer to Draco.

Draco frames their cheeks with hands and stares into Ron's eyes for as long as he dares, the smell of the soup lingering on both their lips.

"You look pretty tonight," he says quietly, watching Ron's pupils widen while he strokes a hand through their hair.

"You don't look too bad yourself," Ron manages to say, swallowing the butterflies that swarm around his stomach as Draco gently caresses their cheek.

Draco treasures the moment, blissfully content as he holds Ron.

"Draco, I'd hate to ruin the moment but you're sitting on my foot and it hurts," Ron whispers.

"Oh, shit," says Draco, quickly moving away and off their feet. "Sorry."

"No, come closer," Ron says, pulling him back towards them. Draco wedges himself down right beside Ron, their bodies falling onto one another.

"Is this close enough for you?" says Draco, his head rested on Ron's shoulder, feeling their hair against his cheek.

"This is perfect," says Ron, hugging him tightly. "Now why don't you tell me what you were sorting out while I was waiting?"

"It was some stupid Slytherin drama," says Draco. "We haven't had any proper drama for a while, so I didn't want to miss out."

"Do tell," says Ron.

"It's kind of a long story."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"What about your homework?"

Ron waves a hand. "It can wait."

"Okay, well basically, you know the Quidditch match next Saturday?" says Draco.

"Yeah."

"The try-outs for the teams were today and everyone who wanted to get into the Slytherin team had a go at lunchtime. I mean, that always causes drama in itself because there's always someone left out. But this time, it was between Daphne and Goyle and it kicked right off this evening."

"Did you jump to your girlfriend's rescue?"

"She didn't need rescuing, I can tell you that much," says Draco. "What happened was that Goyle got into the team and Daphne didn't, and this evening Daphne was shit-talking Goyle to his face in the Common room in front of everyone. She was saying 'how could they've chosen someone with the intelligence of a raw potato' and 'you wouldn't know a snitch if it hit you in the face', you know, stuff like that. Then Goyle straight up called her a slut for sleeping with like all the Slytherin boys at one point or another, then all hell kicked off."

"I can imagine," Ron says, watching Draco's lips move as he tells the story while he absently caresses their thigh.

"Pansy and her lot sided with Daphne, of course, because they're like best mates, and they started screaming at Goyle and calling him everything under the sun. Then Millicent got involved and backed up Goyle because Daphne slept with her ex-boyfriend like a week after they broke up and she's never really let that go.

"So Daphne started on Millicent, calling her a slag and saying it was fair game because they'd broken up. Crabbe then said Daphne was shit in bed, to which Daphne said she only slept with him as a dare. That was like a year ago now. So everyone fucking turned to me and was like is Daphne actually shit in bed. I said she wasn't and told Goyle to pipe down."

"How would you know that?" Ron says, to which Draco gives them a reassuring pat on the knee.

"I don't, I was just backing her up."

Ron's frown relaxes. "Right, so what happened after that?"

"Millicent said she wasn't sleeping in the same room as Daphne because she's a two-faced bitch and went up to the boy's dorm with Goyle and Crabbe and Pike. Daphne and Pansy went up to the girl's dorm with a few of their mates. Blaise was kind of stood there like what the fuck is going on the whole time which was bloody hilarious. I was going to invite him to stay up here for the night but I remembered you were coming, so I didn't.

"Then Millicent stole Blaise's bed at first, which they immediately told her to get the fuck out of. Not in those words, but yeah, so Millicent went back to the girl's dorm to I assume make up with Daphne because I haven't heard anything since. Goyle and Daphne are still at each other's throats, though."

Ron nods, absorbing it all. "I think that's the most I've heard you talk, ever," they say.

"It was a lot."

"I'd pay to be a fly on the wall in your Common room tomorrow," says Ron.

"I might stay in the dorm with Blaise. He's not a fan of the arguing and I can't say it's fun being roped into it all."

"Yeah, but without any drama, it's boring."

"I suppose so," says Draco. "So who do you think is to blame? Daphne or Goyle?"

"Daphne," Ron says without a second's hesitation. Draco thinks the way their cheeks go pink, a visible indicator of their jealousy, whenever talking about Daphne is adorable.

"Why?"

"She started it by being a prick to Goyle in front of everyone," they say, attempting to stay as neutral as possible. "She's a sore loser. Just because she didn't get into the team, it doesn't mean she has to go around slating the people who did. She could've just said congrats and left it there."

"I guess so. Being a gracious loser isn't exactly a well-known Slytherin attribute, though."

Draco drains the last of the soup from his cup and picks up the A5 book lying on the tabletop. "I've been at the sudokus," he says, flicking to a page with a blank grid.

"Is this going to replace chess as your new nerdy hobby?" Ron grins.

"The two aren't mutually exclusive," he says. "I've been doing both, but I can't exactly take an entire chessboard to bed with me. This book is easier to sit with before I sleep."

"You're actually like a grandma, you know that?"

Draco shoots them a look. "I'm pretty sure grandmas don't play sudoku before bed."

"Yes, they do," Ron laughs. "They so do."

"Well, whatever," says Draco. "At least I'm activating my brain. It's not like I'm reading a crusty book for hours."

"You're like a numbery nerd rather than a book nerd."

"Will you stop calling me a nerd?" Draco says, elbowing Ron's smug smile away.

"Is it turning you on?"

"It's certainly fucking not turning me on. There's nothing hot or sexy about being a nerd. Which I'm not, by the way."

Ron pinches his cheeks. "You're so cute, oh my God," he says, giggling at Draco's frown. "A cute little nerd."

"I'm going to fuck you up," Draco says through gritted teeth.

"Ok, ok." Ron relents. "I need to finish my homework."

"I'm doing a sudoku," sniffs Draco.

"Your nerdly little sudoku."

Ron squeaks as Draco pushes them down, digging his knee into their back, then pulling their head up by the hair to face him.

"Ow," Ron gasps, as their head gets jerked back.

"Shit," exclaims Draco, quickly easing off. He hadn't anticipated the force needed to move Ron's head. "Did I hurt you?"

"You and your fucking pain kink," Ron mutters, rubbing the back of his head. "If you want to get off to me in agony next time could you at least give me some warning?"

"Shut the fuck up," Draco says, picking up his sudoku book. "I will give you a warning before punching the shit out of you. The warning being in the next five minutes if you don't piss off."

Ron snickers at him. "You're all talk, no action."

Draco turns to protest, then sighs when he sees Ron sitting there innocently, knowing full well he'd never hurt him. Ron seems to know this too, a gloating smile plastered on his face as he starts on his homework with Draco wrapped around him.

"Can I lean against you?" Draco asks, not waiting for a response before he rests his back onto Ron. Flushing fondness overcomes Ron as Draco relaxes all his weight onto them, tucking his knees up to lean his book against. They can't think of anywhere else they'd rather be in the entire world than right here, right now.

"Draco-" Ron says in a low voice about ten minutes later, about to ask a question about the homework. They glance down to see Draco, eyes closed, breathing lightly, his sudoku book propped up against his knees: asleep.

Ron watches him for a moment, the fuzzy feeling around the edges of his heart engulfing him. All the crinkles in Draco's forehead have vanished and his lips are set apart ever so slightly. Ron has trouble breathing for a second, then blinks and tells themselves it's just Draco asleep, no big deal.

But he fell asleep in their arms. Quite possibly the biggest deal they can imagine.

Ron tries not to disturb him, but when he reaches forward to retrieve a new piece of paper, Draco shifts, then wriggles, then opens his eyes.

"Shit," he mumbles, looking around disorientated. Ron tightens their left arm around Draco's torso before he can sit up. "Ron?"

"Hi," they say.

"Oh, sorry, did I drift off then?" Draco looks up to see Ron sporting a shade of red he didn't know was possible to reach.

"Um, yeah."

"Did I do something?" he says, looping his hand through Ron's obliviously.

"I get what you mean when you said about the Yule Ball night and how you got to hold me like I was yours," Ron says, not daring to raise his voice above a whisper.

Draco lets a smile, a genuine heartfelt smile, light up his face. "Yeah?"

"I can see why you fell for me," Ron says with a nervous laugh. "Because I think if you'd fallen asleep on me two months ago, I probably would've confessed my undying love for you too."

Draco's face subtly flushes pink, lost for words. "Ron, that's so sweet," he manages to say.

Ron gives a little nod and puts their work down so they're able to fully wrap their body around Draco in a huge hug.

"Did you get that herbology finished?" Draco asks later as the clock strikes midnight.

"Yeah, I got most of it done," says Ron. "I tried at least so she can't get mad at me."

"Show me the questions you didn't do."

Ron gives him a look. "I'm not letting you do my work for me."

"Why not?" Draco says, snatching the paper off him.

"Oi, give that back."

Draco holds it out of reach, then a second later puts the paper down.

"You're probably right," he says. "If you get a lower score it'll make me look better."

"Charming," Ron scoffs.

"Can I, like...?" Draco says, miming putting his hands on Ron's waist.

"You can touch me without asking," says Ron, opening his arms. "I promise I won't be offended."

"Just checking."

Draco cups Ron's face and pulls them right in until their noses are nearly touching. Ron assumes he is about to lean in for a kiss, but Draco stops there. They let themselves be encompassed in their pale blue eyes.

"All I want to do is to stare into your eyes for the rest of eternity," Draco whispers, slowly running a hand through the sides of their hair.

Ron releases a nervous giggle. "Oh," they say, flustered by the intense eye contact. "I was thinking about us kissing." They try not to fidget, their eyes darting between Draco's eyes and his lips.

The corners of Draco's mouth lift, his eyes smiling in unison, and he brings Ron's lips gently onto his. Ron clutches Draco's shoulders as if it's their last moment alive and holds the kiss for as long as their lungs can take it.

With Ron there, with Ron's hands on his body, with their lips pressed together, Draco can think of nothing else. His worries about Slughorn and his father and Voldemort and blackmail and violence and death and loneliness all fade into nothingness. How could anything hurt him with Ron with him, with Ron in his arms?

"I should probably go," says Ron once they pull away from the kiss, his and Draco's body firmly entangled. Draco strokes the side of Ron's cheek as customary; he loves feeling their cheeks heat up under his touch.

"All right," he says. "It's late."

"Yeah, it is. Thanks for the soup though."

"Any time," Draco smiles. "Did you actually like it? Because I have a large culinary range. I could do minestrone or chicken next time."

"I'd love to try them all, and yes, the one I had today was delicious."

"I'll see what I can do."

Ron heaves himself up.

"This Friday will be the last time we meet in a while, I think," says Draco, handing Ron their quills and paper.

Ron's face falls. "How come?"

"I'm going to Malfoy Manor for, like, a week or two weeks on Sunday. Voldemort's gonna be there, it's a whole thing that's happening. Ve's making me choose someone for something and my parents are stressed out."

"Sounds bad," says Ron. "I guess you can send me a letter when you're back or when we should next meet?"

"Yeah, I will do. But I'm not going until Sunday so you still have a chance to stare at me in Professor Snape's class for a good three days."

Ron scowls at him. "I do not do that."

Draco laughs. "You're not sneaky at all, I can see you doing it all the time."

"I could be looking at anyone," Ron sniffs. "Maybe I'm eyeing up Millicent."

"You're not though." Draco grins. "You're looking at me."

"Someone needs to deflate your ego, seriously," Ron says. "Not everyone's falling head over heels in love with you."

"Nope," says Draco. "Just you."

"Bloody hell, I can't win."

Draco chuckles and gives them a long hug as an apology and as a goodnight.

"I'll see you Friday," he says.

Ron squeezes him tightly back. "See you Friday. Night Draco."

"Bye, Ron."

The bell rings signalling the end of lunch, and the students make their way out of the Slytherin Common room. Daphne stays seated at one of the tables opposite Draco and Blaise who have managed to squash themselves into one of the armchairs due to a lack of alternate seating space.

"The bell went," says Blaise, as neither Daphne nor Draco make any effort to move.

"Yeah, I can't exactly do much with you sitting on my fucking lap," Draco grumbles, shoving their legs off his.

"You told me to sit here," says Blaise, standing up to retrieve her things from the corner of the room.

"I didn't tell you to be straddling me the entire lunchtime."

"I wasn't straddling you," Blaise scoffs. "I was sitting next to you."

"Didn't feel like it."

"And it didn't feel like it was a problem."

"Meaning?"

"Nothing," smirks Blaise. He slings her bag over her shoulder. "Hurry up or we're going to be late."

"We're staying here," says Daphne, throwing Draco a look. "Aren't we?"

Draco wasn't aware of her plans but goes along with it. "Yeah. Sorry, Blaise."

"You're at her beck and bloody call now?" they mutter.

"Am not."

"You are."

"He'll do whatever I say as long as I ask nicely," Daphne snickers.

"Now that I can believe," grins Blaise.

Draco throws a rubber in xier direction. "Piss off, the both of you."

"Are you sure skipping Professor Snape's class is a good idea?" says Blaise. "He's not going to be pleased."

"I'm sure we'll cope," says Daphne.

"Fine, but don't come crying to me when he gives you both a month of detention."

"He's not that bad," says Draco. "We'll get off with a week if he's in a good mood."

"If you say so," Blaise says, making their way to the door. "Have fun doing whatever it is you'll be doing."

"Sex," Daphne says with a mischievous smile.

"In here?" snorts Blaise. "I thought you'd have some standards. A single scrap of dignity between the pair of you."

"Variety Is the spice of life, darling," she says.

"William Cowper," they nod. "You almost impress me, Daphne."

"You're going to be late for your lesson with your precious Professor Snape," interrupts Draco, giving them the middle finger. "So stop flirting with my girlfriend and get the fuck out."

"I would never flirt with your girlfriend," says Blaise, tauntingly enunciating the last word. "Ok, ok, I'm going," he says after a particularly rude gesture from Draco. "See you after school."

"See you later, Blaise," Daphne calls.

"Bye, twat," says Draco.

Draco closes his eyes, the Common room quiet once again. Daphne sits opposite him, scribbling onto a sheet of paper. The silence occupies the pair for a good few minutes, and Draco finds his mind wandering once again to Ron. He can't get them out of his mind lately, more than ever before. They're his first thought when he wakes up, the last thought as he drifts off to sleep.

I can see why you fell for me because I think if you'd fallen asleep on me two months ago, I probably would've confessed my undying love for you too.

Ron's words float contentedly around his head. At the time, he assumed Ron was trying to lighten the mood with the mention of 'undying love', but he holds onto that sentence, onto that thought that Ron could be in love with him.

He focuses on them and their words and his smile and their touch, anything to distract him from thinking about Slughorn. He refuses to think about his potions professor, for now at least. Nothing good ever comes from it. So he sits back in his chair and replays every last word of his most recent conversation with Ron until he has run out of words and can only think about kissing them.

"What's another phrase for 'to contrast'?" says Daphne eventually, chewing the end of her quill.

"Are we seriously skiving off for you to be sat here doing work?" says Draco. When she suggested skipping Snape's class, he didn't imagine this is what they'd be doing. "Shouldn't we be doing drugs or something vaguely interesting?" he says, flicking the arm of the chair lazily.

"Got any?"

"No."

"I see a slight flaw in your plan," says Daphne with a smirk. "And anyway, I'm too busy for drugs. This essay is due tomorrow and I'm not prepared to be screamed at by Professor McGonagall for half an hour."

Draco gives a short laugh. "Fair enough. How much is left? I thought we could go down to the river for a swim."

"For a swim? What's got into you?" laughs Daphne.

"What's wrong with a swim?"

"Nothing," she smirks. "Depends much we've got on."

"I'm not going skinny dipping in February," says Draco. "I'd die."

Daphne gives a huff. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Are you trying you kill me?" he protests. "The water's going to be freezing. It fucking snowed yesterday, Daphne."

"Oh, stop being such a baby," she says. "We're in England, not bloody Siberia."

Draco narrows his eyes.

"What, were you planning to go in fully clothed?" she says, nodding to him in his school uniform, robes, and jacket on top.

"Fuck's sake, fine," says Draco. He holds a finger up before Daphne looks too pleased with herself. "Shirt off, that's it."

Daphne continues grinning. "Lovely."

"See you at the river in fifteen minutes?"

"I'm not going to get this finished in fifteen minutes," she says.

"There's no way I am sitting here and watching you write your essay for another forty-five minutes. You can finish it off in the evening."

"If you insist."

Draco sits on the riverbank, concealed from the school by a collection of thick evergreen trees. The river is both deep and wide, purposely to stop students from venturing onto the other side and into the Forbidden Forest. He dips a foot in the crystal-clear water, then quickly retrieves it due to the temperature.

There's a rustling behind him, then he hears a sarcastic, "hello, handsome." Daphne appears from the undergrowth, staring admiringly at Draco's topless torso.

He rolls his eyes. "How come you're hornier than every guy I know?"

"Don't worry, I've got plenty more where that came from," says Daphne. She sits down next to Draco on the riverbank.

"Can you undo my back button?" she asks, holding her hair up and turning away from Draco to reveal a small button holding together the top of her shirt.

"I don't know if I can," he mutters after a second of scrabbling about with it. "Wait, no, I've got it." He pulls and the button comes undone. "There."

"Cheers," says Daphne. She flings the top onto a dry patch of rock and re-adjusts her hair. Draco notices some white lines on her upper arms.

"Daphne?" he says.

Her smile fades as she sees him staring at her scars. "Oh," she says. "Yeah."

He looks at the countless intricate marks, some barely noticeable while others protrude from the skin, some white, some faded purple.

"You did this to yourself?"

"What does it look like?" she says, self-consciously crossing her arms. "Haven't you heard of self-harm?"

"Yeah but I've never seen it," he says. "Doesn't it hurt?"

She gives an empty smile. "Yeah, that's kind of the point, Draco. Clue's in the name. But it's fine, I don't do it anymore. Ten months clean tomorrow."

"All right," Draco says uncertainly, unable to take his eyes off her arm. "Why did you do it in the first place?"

Daphne rolls her eyes as if recounting the events which led up to it would bore them both to death. "Bad shit happened, I felt sad, started doing it to make myself feel better, it became a habit," she says in a dull tone. "The standard. You really don't want to hear about it. We're supposed to be going for a nice swim, not moping around, so come on."

Daphne stands up. She dives neatly into the river, splashing Draco. He puts his questions aside and plunges in after her.

They dry off back in the Common room.

"That wasn't too bad, to be fair," says Daphne, pulling on a new T-shirt. "I thought it'd be colder."

"Speak for yourself," says Draco, fully dressed and leaning against one of the radiators. "My face is freezing and I can't feel my toes."

"Your poor soul," Daphne sniggers, eyeing his flushed cheeks and red hands.

Draco scans over her essay to distract himself from the uncomfortable burning sensations. "You've written a lot."

"I have indeed," she says. "I need to get on McGonagall's good side after last time."

"Last time?"

Suddenly, the Common room door bursts open and Crabbe enters, looking agitated.

"Snape's pissed," he says breathlessly.

Draco crosses his arms at the invasion.

"Were you running?" he says with a laugh. "Bloody hell, Daphne, we must be in trouble."

"You didn't go to Snape's lesson," says Crabbe, ignoring Draco's jibe.

"Thank you, Crabbe, we are aware," says Daphne shortly.

Crabbe looks at Draco, then at Daphne, then back at Draco. "Ohhh," he says. "You two were..."

He gives Draco a look, prompting Daphne to roll her eyes. "Crabbe, if you haven't got anything intelligent to say, you can run back along to Professor Snape."

His eyes drop down to her chest, the T-shirt sticking to her wet skin.

"Oi," says Daphne, catching on immediately. "Speak or get the fuck out."

Amazingly, he finds his tongue. "Snape told me to tell you that he wants to see you after the lesson or he's going to..." He tails off uncertainly.

"He's going to what?" Draco prompts.

"Oh, yes," he says, remembering. "He's going to complain to your parents."

"Fine. We'll go see him."

Crabbe loiters in the doorway a second too long. "So, what were you two doing?"

"Fuck off, you perv," says Daphne witheringly.

He looks to Draco, who just shrugs. He saunters back out, disappointed.

"God, he's as thick as anything," sighs Daphne.

"We'd better go and see Professor Snape soon then."

"I guess so," she says. "It's been worth it, though."

"Anything for your precious essay."

She bats him away. "Shut up, you just wanted an excuse to see me topless."

Draco snorts. "I seem to distinctly remember it being your idea to go swimming with no clothes on in February."

"You agreed to it."

"After being emotionally blackmailed."

Daphne lets out a loud laugh. "Is this because I called you a baby?"

"Yeah, you hurt my feelings," Draco says, theatrically clutching his chest. "I don't know if I will ever recover."

"Don't, you'll encourage me," she says.

Draco checks the clock. 15:56. "We better get going," he says. "Lessons finish in a few minutes."

"Okay," she says, pulling on a large, knitted jumper. "Are you excited to get screamed at?"

"Thrilled."

They approach Snape's classroom door five minutes later.

"So, what's our excuse?" Daphne whispers.

Draco gives her a clueless look.

"Well, we're not gonna say we skipped his class to do drugs for an hour, are we?"

He gives a smile. "No, you're right. I don't know, we could-"

The classroom door swings open to Snape standing there with a thunderous expression on his face. "Get in," he orders.

They stand behind his desk, facing Snape as he slams a pile of paper down in front of them. "That's all the work you missed. I expect you both have an excellent reason for missing my lesson."

Draco looks down, prepared to take his wrath in silence. Daphne, however, has no such plans.

"Professor Snape," she smiles sweetly. "Me and my darling Draco were taking our sweet time to time to really explore each other on this lovely afternoon. Intimacy is so undervalued in today's world."

Draco thanks God he doesn't blush, because he would surely be turning purple at this point. Trust Daphne to come up with the most embarrassing response. He knows she's enjoying making them both squirm, too.

"If you didn't know, we're in a relationship, sir," she continues. "Young love is so hard to find these days. It should be treasured and celebrated, a rare gem in an ocean of tatters, disarray, and ruin."

Daphne throws an arm around Draco's neck, pulling him closer. Draco stands there, wishing the ground would swallow him up, although a part of him can't help but be impressed by the satisfied smile on her face, unintimidated by Snape.

Snape holds up a hand. "Thank you, Ms. Greengrass," he drawls. "I didn't ask for the details of your personal life nor the poetry. What you two do in your own time is irrelevant to my lesson, therefore missing lesson time for personal reasons is inexcusable. It's also worth three weeks of detention beginning tomorrow, and I expect you to do extra work to catch up. If this happens again I will be contacting your parents."

"Yes, Professor Snape," they mutter, the threat holding considerable weight for them both.

"Ms. Greengrass, you are dismissed. Malfoy, stay behind for a minute."

Daphne shoots Draco a questioning look, but he just gives a small shrug and she has no choice but to leave them.

Snape leans on the desk, his expression relaxing from fury to stern confusion.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he says.

"What do you mean?" says Draco.

He gestures to where Daphne stood a moment ago. "With Daphne."

Draco bites his lip, remembering Snape knows about Ron. "It wasn't my idea."

Snape raises his eyebrows encouragingly. "What wasn't?"

"Getting together with Daphne. It was my father's decision," he says.

"How come?"

"He wanted to get on the good side of her parents. He asked me to take her to the Yule Ball in December and it kind of just continued from then."

Snape nods, well aware of the influence of the Greengrass family. "I see."

"We agreed to do it to please our parents," says Draco. "She knows I'm not into it, but you know, maybe she'd appreciate it if her boyfriend wasn't completely... me."

"Okay," says Snape, thoughtfully.

Draco glances at him anxiously, wondering if he said something wrong, or if there's an issue with bringing up his sexuality. He's still not fully convinced Snape isn't bothered by his and Ron's relationship.

"I mean, she's great," says Draco. "She's funny and pretty and we get on well. I'm glad we're together out of anyone because she's smart and we click, just not in the way our parents hoped, I guess. But it's no problem. I don't mind playing along. It's not a bad thing, you know, and she's really, she's a good girlfriend. I'm sure if-"

"Draco," interrupts Snape, stopping his chuntering. "I understand. She's a nice young lady but you're unable to have romantic feelings for her because you're gay. It's fine."

"It's not fine," Draco mutters, feeling his face heat up. "It's illegal."

Snape makes a psh noise. "The Ministry can't-" He cuts himself off. "I'm afraid I can't discuss my political opinions with students," he says curtly, his expression telling Draco everything he needs to know. "Nevertheless, I was just curious about what's going on with you two. You can go now," he says. "But whatever she convinces you to do next time, keep it to your own time."

"Yes, sorry Professor," says Draco.

"And Draco, don't bother with the detention," he says just as he stumbles to the door, head hung in shame. "Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Thank you, sir."

"Off you go."

Snape watches him leave. Was he too harsh on him? Or was he just embarrassed by his bluntness?

"What did he say?" asks Daphne when Draco reappears into the corridor.

"You waited," he says, pleasantly surprised.

She gives him a long look, then laughs. "Your standards are on the floor, babe. Of course I waited."

"You did not just call me babe."

Daphne sniggers. "Sorry, it slipped out. Go on."

"It was nothing, he was just asking after my father. And he said we don't have to do the detention."

"Oh, good," she says. "I was not looking forward to three weeks of detention in that hall with the snotty first years. What changed his mind?"

"No idea."

"Well, I'm not complaining," she says, holding out a hand. Draco takes it and she drags him back towards the Common room.

"Time to finish my essay," she says.

"That bloody essay."

"That's the one."