Harry and Draco opt out of moving forward with lessons for the week preceding the next gala, which is to take place the coming Saturday.
"What's this one's theme, then?" Draco asks at lunch on Wednesday. He didn't provide reasoning for asking Harry to go a sandwich shop across the street from the main Ministry entrance, but, considering they're friends, Harry supposes he doesn't need to do that.
"It's called the November Pre-Holiday Ball," says Harry. "So I guess we're celebrating that soon, things will be happening."
"Always something worth celebrating." Draco swishes a spoon around in his hot chocolate. Harry hadn't expected that to be Draco's drink of choice, but it suits him somehow, often warmer and sweeter than expected. Harry hides a grimace, disgusted by his own sentimentality.
"There was something I wanted to tell you," says Draco. These are words that make Harry nervous anytime he hears them. These are loaded words, and Harry hardly wants to know.
"It's about Theo," Draco continues. "He's, well, it's embarrassing, really, but he still sleeps with a stuffed dog called Chestnut."
Harry gapes at him. "So, you introduced something with the ever-foreboding words 'There was something I wanted to tell you,' and it's just a pretty embarrassing though maybe a bit endearing fact about Theodore Nott?"
"It's endearing? Isn't it just embarrassing?"
Harry laughs. "Draco, why did you need to tell me that?"
Draco sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. For a moment, Harry wishes he were the one doing it. "Well, you were getting on so well at the match, sharing fags and everything, and I just don't want you to think he's, well, cooler than I am." Draco pauses. "He's not, you know."
Harry shakes his head and smiles at Draco, who still looks a bit nervous, as he has since he posed the question. "Don't worry. You're the coolest friend I've made in quite a while, if I'd even call Theo a friend yet. And sleeping with stuffed animals, well, it's a fine trait in a friend, but any more than that, I don't know that I could take it."
Draco seems to relax completely. "Oh. Good. I don't want to have to compete for your time."
"You don't have to." Harry takes a breath. "Actually, I had a question for you, too."
"What's that?"
"Would you, well, I was just wondering if you'd be at all interested in coming with me to the November Pre-Holiday Ball," Harry says. He wonders how he hasn't gotten any more suave since he was 14. Draco's not saying anything and that makes Harry even more uncomfortable than asking him in the first place.
"It doesn't have to be, like, a date or something," says Harry, desperate for Draco to say something, anything, even if it's a no. "We could go as friends, if you wanted. I just figured, we've been getting along so well, and it could be a good time for—"
"Shut up and let me tell you yes, Potter," Draco says, rolling his eyes. "There is one condition, though."
"What's that?"
"Let me know what you're wearing before the gala," says Draco. "I don't want to match too much, but we should to some extent. Actually, let's go to Madam Malkin's together on Saturday afternoon. I could use new robes, and I know you have the money for some as well."
"That is true."
"Also, I know that was your way of implying you'd like it to be a date." Harry blushes and Draco continues, "And that's fine. I like you, Potter. I have for a while. This can't shock you, and I know Theo told you I'm a coward about this sort of thing. Don't look so surprised, what else would you have been talking about?"
"Guess that's a fair point," says Harry, feeling his cheeks grow ever redder.
"So I suppose I'm saying this to prove I'm not. Not when I actually want something to happen with someone, no offense to Theo. Moreover, I know you like me, too, and I know we both viewed that first Quidditch match as a date to some extent. And it seemed to go well, I'm sure you'll agree, so we might as well let people know how well this potential thing we have is going, right?"
"Sure."
"You're more hesitant now. It's cute, really. You typically are."
"Did you just describe me as cute?"
"Yes. And hold onto that, Potter. It's the only time it'll ever happen." Draco pauses. "Harry. I suppose I should call you Harry."
"It would make sense, if we're going to go on a date and call it that this time," says Harry. "How much are you going to make me spend?"
"A lot. But it'll be worth it. They're going to take our picture no matter what. Might as well look good when it happens," Draco reasons, and Harry thinks how nice it would be to lean over and kiss him. But something tells him to wait, some combination of nerves and propriety. It makes sense to hold off till after the date, or at least some way through it, much as that idea doesn't appeal to him.
"How long?" Harry hears himself ask, not sure where it's coming from but suddenly unspeakably curious.
"What?"
"How long have you liked me? You said it's been a while."
"First noticed you were good looking fourth year during the first task of the Triwizard," says Draco, beginning to tick events off on his fingers. "First determined you were most likely gay sixth year. First thought that maybe your personality wasn't so bad eighth year. First considered asking you out when you broke up with Goldstein last year. And first realized it wasn't just a passing thing midway through the second dancing lesson. It was the way you talked about the song, I think."
"So because I'm a sap?"
"More or less, I suppose." Draco smiles. Harry wants to kiss him again and curses himself for being a gentleman, if that is what he's doing.
"I really, really want to kiss you right now." Harry doesn't mean to say so out loud, but it's a bit late to take it back, and Draco looks pleasantly surprised at the confession.
"What's stopping you, then?" Draco challenges him.
"One, I'm nervous as hell," says Harry. Draco laughs, and Harry attempts to ignore how adorable he finds him then. "And two, might as well go on a proper date before I try anything. At that point, maybe you'll like me enough to look past what a terrible kisser I am."
"To hear Ginny tell it, you're nothing of the kind."
Harry's face reddens yet again. "Why've you been talking to Ginny? And about me?"
"Misuse of Muggle Artefacts interacts with our department sometimes," Draco says with an elegant shrug. "She's always with Hermione, so the three of us talk, and naturally, the subject of you came up."
"You should probably thank Hermione," says Harry. "This is all her doing, you know."
"Ginny pointed that out at the start of lessons. Didn't seem to think it was a bad idea, though. She wants you to be happy. And she thinks I could do that for you."
"For what it's worth," Harry says, "I think so, too. I just, I don't think it's a bad idea to take it slow at first."
"So no kissing till the end of the night."
"Right."
"Groping?"
Harry splutters a bit, water trickling down his chin.
"It's a good thing I'm already attracted to you," says Draco. "Otherwise that might have killed any preexisting feelings. So that's a no on the groping?"
"I would think that groping would get pushed off till after kissing."
"Well, I suppose we'll see where the night takes us." Draco smirks at Harry's continued shyness; Harry can't quite say anything in response out of this healthy mix of pleasure and anxiety. "Saturday, then?"
"Saturday."
"It is, officially, a date," says Draco, extending his hand to Harry's. Harry shakes it and Draco lifts Harry's hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to Harry's knuckles in a soft kiss.
"Saturday at Madam Malkin's at 3pm?" Harry asks after catching his breath."
"I'll be there," says Draco.