They don't see each other for more than a few minutes at a time till Saturday, and Harry hates himself, just a little, for being so annoyed by this. He and Draco were only cordial to each other before, so why has he grown reliant on spending time with the man this quickly? It's not as though they've been friends for more than a week or two. Even so, Harry is disappointed when the Auror office gets unusually busy for the post-war climate and he can't continue getting ahead on lessons with Draco. And from the way Draco asks, both times Harry sees him in the elevator, whether Harry knows when his workload will let up, it's obvious he's disappointed, too.
Fortunately, by Friday, Harry's schedule is very nearly clear. And by Saturday, he and Ron and Hermione are more than ready for the match. Well, Harry and Ron are, at least. Hermione's just complaining about being the only girl in a group of six.
"Couldn't we invite Neville and Luna?" she asks desperately as they Apparate to the stadium.
Ron snorts. "Not enough of a stretch for us to be sitting in the Malfoy family's private box, then?"
"I just don't understand why you had to ask both of us along, Harry." Hermione sighs. "You know I don't care for Quidditch."
"So you and Draco can discuss that potential addition to the Laws of Transfiguration," says Harry. "Come on, you'll have a good time. It won't be as bad as you're thinking."
This time they didn't Apparate straight into the box, as Harry had previously. The three of them walked in together; Harry had reasoned this wouldn't look quite as strange if a group of them were there rather than just Harry and Draco. Draco, Theo, and a man Harry takes to be Ali are already there. Immediately after being introduced, Ron and Ali begin debating the respective merits of the Cannons' and the Catapults' rosters, Draco and Hermione heatedly discuss the reasoning behind the potential new Laws of Transfiguration, and Harry and Theo are left to chat about ... well, Harry doesn't know where such a conversation will go, exactly. He's never quite interacted with Theo before beyond smiles and nods.
"Bit awkward, isn't it?" Theo comments. Harry smiles as he feels the tension lift.
"It's odd, yeah, hanging out with his friends." Harry gestures toward Draco, who's gesturing wildly, using a stationary Snitch as a prop to illustrate some point or another. "But we've been doing the dancing thing, and we were getting on well enough, so..."
"I think it's good for him," says Theo. He's got a quiet, commanding way about him. It suits him. "Spending time with you, that is. Gets him out of that world with more frequency."
"The world of delightfully archaic pureblood tradition?"
"Indeed." Theo gets out a cigarette case. "You don't mind, do you?"
Harry shakes his head.
"Anyone else? Ron? Hermione?"
Ron waves his hand dismissively without disengaging from his argument with Ali, and Hermione turns, shakes her head, grins, and looks back at Draco again. Theo lights his cigarette and takes a drag.
"Where'd you pick that up?" Harry asks.
"Well, when I realized that my sexual proclivities were not what you'd call pureblood friendly..." He takes a much longer drag and seems to savor it. "I thought it might be rubbing salt in the wound, my parents' collective wound, that is, to look for a boy in our world. So I had a few Muggle clubs I went to. And I always seemed to gravitate toward the smokers." He extends the half-smoked cigarette to Harry, who accepts it out of some combination of courtesy and curiosity. The taste is alright, though he thinks that might have to do more with whatever lip balm Theo's got on. Harry looks around and sees Draco staring his way. He hands back the cigarette, which Theo finishes off.
Theo smirks and puts away the case. "I think he's worried that you're going to stray."
"Wait, what?"
"I see the appeal, really." Theo looks at him, really thoroughly examines him, and Harry's uncomfortable enough to look down and blush. "Kind of shy and retiring underneath all that stubborn bravery. No wonder he's mad for you."
Harry feels his heartbeat go a bit erratic. "No, he's not. We're friends."
"Right. You are." Theo pauses and looks at Draco, who's now joined Ron and Ali's conversation. "But did it not occur to you that there may be something more at work?"
"It might have done once or twice," says Harry. He still can't bear to look Theo in the face. "But I don't know why I need to tell you that."
"Neither of you has to tell me anything," Theo says. "It's rather obvious. You're both rather obvious. Maybe you should say something. He's chicken shit in these situations, you know."
"You asked him out, then?"
"Of course. And I could hardly get him to say yes. He was probably holding out for someone else, even then."
"I doubt that," says Harry, who's just regained enough composure to look at Theo. "I doubt he even knew I was gay before..."
Theo snickers. "He had you pegged sixth year, Potter."
"I didn't even have me pegged sixth year!"
"You can say this for the bastard: he knows how to read people." Theo gestures toward Draco, who's somehow involved Hermione in whatever conversation he and Ron and Ali are having, and everyone looks genuinely relaxed and happy. Harry suddenly has a desperate need to join the conversation, especially when he notices Ali hanging on Draco's every word.
"Don't worry," says Theo. "Ali's straight and engaged—to a Muggle, actually. His mother was furious. I'm hoping mine viewed it as a kind of warm-up."
"How'd you know I—oh. Right. I'm rather obvious."
"Yes, and no matter how obvious you are, you should probably just come out and tell him. Otherwise he may never do anything."
"I do like being his friend, though," Harry says, smiling over at Draco, who smiles back at him, though surreptitiously. Harry wonders whose sake that's for. "And I don't want to ruin that."
Theo shakes his head and laughs quietly. "Relationships are supposed to be more like friendships with sex than anything else."
Harry blushes. "Right. I think I'm going to see how Hermione's doing."
"I'm sure that's exactly what you're going to do."
Harry doesn't bother to defend himself as he stands and walks away.