Book Club: Six of Crows

WRITTEN FOR QLFC, SEASON 9

Puddlemere United, Chaser 1

Prompt:

(dialogue) Maybe I liked your stupid face.

Word Count: 2300

After he had vanquished his foe, Harry Potter had disappeared from the face of the earth—or so people assumed. Only his closest friends knew where he was, and none of them was traitorous enough to tell the press Harry's whereabouts.

It had been ten years since the war was over. Since Harry had thwarted Voldemort's attempts at ruling the wizarding world. Things had settled down, and people had gone back to whatever normalcy they had been used to before the terror of the Dark Lord had taken over the country.

Headmistress McGonagall and Minister Shacklebolt had decided to host a reunion party at Hogwarts to celebrate the anniversary, and all the people who had participated in the battle were to be invited. The invitations were sent out by the Ministry's owls, and one letter found its way to Harry Potter, who lived in a rustic little cottage on the Isle of Scalpay.

The Potters had owned the island for many generations, and Harry found out about it when he had gone to make financial reparations for Gringotts' damages. The island was situated in the stretch of water between the Isle of Skye and the Applecross Peninsula on the west coast of Scotland with magnificent views over to Skye, Raasay and the mainland. It was a perfect haven for those looking to escape the hectic pace of everyday life—which Harry desperately needed after the Horcrux Hunt and the Battle.

With some two hundred acres of mixed and coniferous woodland, a multitude of freshwater lochs and burns, open hills rising from the sea and more than fourteen miles of shoreline, the tranquil location was the perfect place for Harry to experience wildlife and enjoy the natural beauty of the surroundings.

There were three cottages on the island, one of which was Harry's humble abode. The other two were refurnished for Teddy and Andromeda, and the Weasleys and Hermione for when they came to visit him—which was very often. Sometimes, Neville and Luna came to see him, but those visits were rare as Neville was busy teaching Herbology at Hogwarts, and Luna spent her time travelling from country to country with her fiance, Rolf Scamander.

Harry enjoyed his simple life. He was free to do whatever he wanted, but Harry realised he did miss Hogwarts when he received the letter for the reunion. He missed his friends, his professors, and even… him. Malfoy.

He didn't want to face the press after so many years in hiding, but Professor McGonagall's letter stated that there would be no reporters at Hogwarts. And so, Harry made up his mind to revisit the first place he'd called home. Hogwarts.

The reunion was everything Harry had hoped for and more. Faces from his past surrounded him, and Harry sometimes had flashbacks of his school days when they were all relatively innocent and naive as to what lay past the castle gates. Despite the slight panic rising in his chest at the thought of facing them all, Harry put on his brave face and continued mingling with them all.

Ron greeted him cheerfully, giving him a one-armed hug. On his other arm was Romilda Vane, his latest squeeze. Ron had taken to his celebrity status after the war like a duck to water, and it was one of the reasons Harry knew Hermione and Ron would have never worked out.

And then, Harry came face to face with the one man he'd been secretly hoping yet dreading to see. Malfoy. The man stood near the drinks' table, conversing with Theodore Nott and Hermione. He held a glass of champagne in his hand.

The Malfoy heir looked good. His blond hair was styled to perfection just like it had been in the past. He had lost the little bit of baby fat in his cheeks, his face more angular. He seemed more muscular; Harry could even make out the shape of the man's biceps through his black tuxedo jacket.

Hermione turned her head and caught him ogling Malfoy. She giggled as she waved him over. "Harry! You made it!"

Harry nodded, unable to look away from Malfoy. When Hermione leapt into his arms and hugged him fiercely, he muttered in her hair, "Damn, Malfoy looks good enough to eat."

Hermione snickered under her breath at his phrasing and whispered, "Good luck, then." She pulled away from him and beamed. In a louder voice, she said, "I'm so glad you're here. So… what do you think? Theo and I partnered up to organize this party. It took us weeks, but we did it."

"Is that why you two are joined at the hip these days?" Malfoy drawled, sipping on the liquid slowly. He glanced at Harry and gave him a polite nod, which Harry quietly returned. He looked at Nott, whose ears had tinged pink at Malfoy's question. "I just assumed you two were dating. My bad."

"We are dating," Nott suddenly said. Harry had never heard him speak before, and he was surprised by how confident the man's voice was despite being low in pitch. "It's a recent development."

"You two are dating?" Harry and Malfoy asked in unison, glancing at each other.

They looked back at their respective friends. Harry had never thought Hermione would date a Slytherin, but the sight of Hermione with Nott made sense. They had all grown up, matured over the years, and Harry knew Hermione and Ron were just friends. But still, he hadn't ever thought of Hermione being romantically linked to someone, let alone a Slytherin.

"Yes, we were going to tell you if things got a bit more serious," Hermione said, looking at Nott pointedly. He stared back at her just as fiercely. Harry pursed his lips to hide his grin. Ron would have never done something like that if they'd been together, but Nott seemed like the type to challenge Hermione indirectly.

And then, Nott reached down and took Hermione's hand in his. Instantly, Hermione's shoulders relaxed, and her cheeks turned pink as she looked away from him. Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight; Theo was perfect for her.

"Anyone who can make Mione blush like that has my blessings," Harry said mischievously, and Theo's lips twitched in reply.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed, her face reddening.

"For the first time in my life, I'll have to agree with Potter. And Granger's just as smart as you, so you two nerds will have a blast arguing over which book to read next and whatnot," Malfoy said, smirking at them.

"We've been doing that since we were eleven," Hermione said, ducking her head.

Harry chuckled and said, "Well, whatever you two get up to together is none of our concern anyway. Still, I'm happy for you, Mione."

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione murmured, giving him a soft smile.

Harry raised his glass at her in reply before excusing himself to go talk to Professor McGonagall. He felt a pair of eyes staring holes in his head, and he knew exactly who it was. Still, he tried not to turn around.

He spoke to McGonagall, who was annoyed he had opted to remain hidden from her for so long. Despite her anger, she seemed to understand his reasons. A lump formed in Harry's throat when McGonagall hugged him, and he closed his eyes as he savoured the moment. He'd missed his old Transfiguration professor more than he should have; she had been such a big part of his life, after all.

After they parted, Harry excused himself, trying to hide the tears in his eyes. She squeezed his shoulder before letting him go. He quickly made his way out of the Great Hall, where the party was being held, and into the hallway.

Taking a deep breath in to compose himself, Harry decided to take a stroll around the castle. Memories of his time at Hogwarts swarmed him as he walked through the hallways, up the stairs, and towards the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady recognised him on sight, and though she wasn't allowed to let anyone else inside, she opened the portrait door for him.

Nostalgia hit him when he saw the couch near the fireplace. How many nights had he, Hermione, and Ron spent talking on that sofa? They had had many important conversations on that particular spot. He'd spoken to Sirius via Floo a handful of times, planned to start the DA, and even discussed the Triwizard Tournament tasks with Hermione there.

Harry smiled softly as he walked over and sat down on the couch. He ran his hand over the upholstery, thinking back to the time he had kissed Cho and told his friends about it. He chuckled under his breath when he thought back to how his friends had laughed at his situation.

"What are you laughing about?" Malfoy's voice suddenly sounded from behind him, and Harry shot to his feet in surprise.

"How did you get in?" Harry blurted out, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn't even heard the blond enter the common room, and he was stunned by his own negligence. What if it had been someone else?

"Through the door. The Fat Lady let me in," Malfoy said with a shrug. He looked around the common room and scrunched his nose up. "This place is filthy—how could you stand this place?"

"It's not filthy. It's comfortable," Harry said defensively. "And why did the Fat Lady let you in? You're a Slytherin!"

"She's tipsy," Malfoy answered, walking around and inspecting the common room. He turned towards him and said, "So… Potter, have you done anything new recently?"

"Why the sudden interest in my life? Are you going to share the information with the Prophet?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't know why he felt so defensive and uncomfortable with Malfoy in the Gryffindor common room with him.

"Damn it, Potter. I'm trying to be nice here! You could at least have the decent courtesy to—"

"Why are you being nice to me?" Harry interrupted him immediately. "What ulterior motive do you have?"

"Wow. You're thinking like a Slytherin," Malfoy remarked, his eyes widening as he took in Harry's defensive stance. "How the tables have turned…"

"The Sorting Hat was about to put me in Slytherin," Harry said, not knowing why he had told Malfoy that.

"Really? Hmm," Malfoy said, tilting his head to the side as he scrutinised Harry. "Now that you mention it… You could have done well in Slytherin, but your heart's too golden."

"I did save the world," Harry said, unable to stop himself.

Malfoy's lips twitched at his reply. "That you did. And… you also saved me."

"You saved me—us—first. At your house," Harry pointed out instantly, his shoulders relaxing a little.

"You saved me from the Fiendfyre Crabbe cast in the Come and Go Room."

"But I also almost killed you in the bathroom in sixth year."

"I busted you and your little gang in fifth year."

"I repeatedly beat you up that year." Harry didn't know when or how the two of them had got so close, but Malfoy's minty fresh breath wafted to Harry's nose, and he was unable to take a step back. He knew it was dangerous territory, but he couldn't stop himself from inhaling the scent.

"I petrified you and kicked you in the face," Malfoy whispered, his eyes hooded with an emotion Harry couldn't name.

"That's because I was spying on you… and you didn't like my face," Harry murmured, his heart thundering against his ribs at how close they were. He could easily make out the specks of blue in Malfoy's grey eyes, and he was reminded of his Seeker days when he'd soar through the air and Malfoy would chase after him.

"Maybe I liked your stupid face."

The words came as a punch to Harry's gut. "What?" he stammered, his eyes widening.

Malfoy's ears turned red as he tried to take a step back, but Harry had heard him loud and clear. He grabbed Malfoy's wrist and stopped him from moving. "What did you say?" Harry asked, his voice stronger this time.

Malfoy muttered, "Forget it." He tried to pull away from Harry, but the latter refused. "Potter, let go of me."

"Not until you tell me what you just said."

"Fine!" Malfoy huffed, a scowl marring his face. "I called you stupid."

"You also said you liked my face." A grin began to form on Harry's face as he stepped closer to Malfoy, his confidence increasing when he heard the slight hitch in the blond's breath.

"So what if I did?" Malfoy demanded, his voice surprisingly high-pitched.

"Well…" Harry smirked, tilting his head up a little to look into Malfoy's eyes. "I would do this."

And with that, Harry grabbed the back of Malfoy's neck, yanked him down, and kissed him outright. Malfoy's lips were soft and smooth against Harry's slightly chapped ones, but the contrast was perfect. Harry grinned against Malfoy's mouth when the latter slid a hand down into his back pocket.

"Oh, shut up, Potter," Malfoy grumbled when they parted. Harry's smile was still plastered on his face, and no matter what he did, it just couldn't disappear.

"I didn't say anything," Harry said, still grinning at him.

"That look on your face says everything you wish to say," Malfoy said, annoyance evident in his tone.

Harry threw his head back and laughed. It was a loud and boisterous sound, something he was sure Malfoy hadn't heard from him before. He reached up to grab the little hair near the nape of Malfoy's neck and tugged him down again.

Before he kissed the blond again, Harry whispered, "I might have liked your stupid face too."

"My face isn't—mmph!" Harry's lips silenced him.