Fucking Potter!
Draco watched as Harry made his way to the dance floor with mud-blood Granger. He still could not believe they just let him compete in the championship. Potter was definitely enjoying all the attention he was getting. Draco did not believe for one minute that Potter did not put his name in the goblet.
"Draco," Daphne's voice snapped him out of his internal rant, "let's dance."
He took her hand, and she led him to the dance floor. Daphne Greengrass was his best friend. Nothing romantic going on between the two, despite all the rumors.
"Stare harder," Daphne whispered in his ear jokingly, "I'm sure there are a few Durmstrang students in the corner who haven't noticed you staring at Potter yet."
"Is it that obvious?" Draco huffed.
"What's your issue with him anyways?" Daphne asked.
What's his issue? What's HIS issue? Saint Potter! Of course, nobody's got a problem with the wizarding Britain's sweetheart breaking some rules and cutting some corners to get his name into the goblet.
"…how do you NOT have an issue with that?" Draco finished, but Daphne has heard the same rant at least four times today.
"You gotta let it go!" Daphne said, and then twirled him around.
"I should twirl YOU around," Draco blushed. Daphne smirked, and let him twirl her around.
They danced for a little while before…
"Daphne Greengrass," came a voice from behind Draco, Draco turned to find none other than…
"Potter." Draco spit out, as he turned around.
Harry paid Draco no attention except for a condescending side look, before turning back to Daphne: "may I have a dance?"
"Oh," Daphne was surprised, but still offered her hand, which Potter took. "I'll see you later," she gave Draco a light kiss on the cheek.
Draco went to sit by one of the empty tables with a glass of Fire Whiskey, smuggled by Theodore Nott, in his hand. He watched as Daphne danced with the Boy Who Lived, the Lord and Savior of the Wizarding World: fucking Potter!
What irritated Draco even more is that he knew it! Potter knew it! He knew that Dumbledore and every professor in this school, except for Snape, worshipped the ground on which he steps. He walks around Hogwarts, followed by his little minions: Granger and Weasley, as if he owns the fucking place.
"Woah! Slow down, buddy." Theodore said as he watched Draco chug down a whole glass of whiskey.
"More." Draco demanded.
"Are you sure?" Theo asked, but still poured him a glass.
"Saint Potter!" Draco muttered to himself.
"Not that again!" Theodore said, knowing well he was going to hear it. Again.
"Thinks he owns the fucking place!" Draco ignored him.
"Ugh! Why are you so obsessed with him?"
"What did you just say?" Draco asked with a deadly tone.
"I said you're obsessed with the guy."
"I don't need you to psychoanalyze me, Theodore."
"Whatever, man." Theo said as he got up. "You're bumming me out."
"Leave, then."
He did.
The music stopped. A little break. Daphne joined him at his table.
"Enjoyed dancing with Potter?" Draco asked, somewhat aggressively.
"He's a very good dancer." Daphne said, as she took off her heels.
"Of course he is!" Draco rolled his eyes, and then got up.
"Where are you going?" Daphne asked.
"I'm getting some more punch." Draco said.
"Get me some, please?" She made a puppy face at him.
"Okay," he groaned, "even though you don't deserve it."
"You're the best," she said as she blew him a kiss.
He walked to the table in the middle of the Great Hall, where the punch was. On the table, there were appetizers and desserts of all kinds, and in the middle there was a huge cake the size of Hagrid. It would've been impressive to a Weasley, definitely, but not to a Malfoy.
Right next to the table was standing none other than Harry Potter. Leaning against the table, sipping, knowingly or unknowingly, on spiked punch, wearing a grey suit and a black tie that fits him perfectly and accentuates his chest, biceps, and… umm… behind.
Draco walks up to him, against his better judgement and with the help of all the alcohol he just consumed: "Where's your little date, Potter?"
"None of your business, Malfoy." Potter doesn't even turn.
"I'm just looking out for you," Draco smirked, "it's honestly not a good look."
"What isn't?"
"Your date leaving early," Draco said, "people would think you're too… boring."
"Hermione is not my date," Harry said, finally turning towards him, "and I'm not boring; your date does not seem to think so anyways."
"Daphne is not my date!" Draco corrects him, "and you should not mistake her politeness for interest."
"Whatever you say, dude." Potter goes back to leaning on the table, taking another sip of punch.
"You must think you're so cool, don't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Well, you're not." Draco says, "you pretend to hate the attention, but we both know you simply ~*LoOooOoVE*~ the attention."
"How drunk are you?"
"I'm not drunk!" Draco protests, unconvincingly. "Just because I'm not obsessed with you like everyone else is…"
"You know what I think, Malfoy?" Harry cuts him off. "I think you ARE obsessed with me."
"Excuse me?"
"Yes," Harry continues smugly, "you're always in my business, and you always have something to say about something that I've done or said or neither. You just can't leave me alone, can you?"
Draco's flustered: "I-I'm not… you are…"
"Have a lovely evening, Malfoy." Harry smirks and starts to walk away.
It drove Draco mad that Potter thought he could just have the last word and walk away. So, he grabbed him by the shoulder, but Harry turned around and pushed him away.
"Don't push me!" Draco protested.
"Don't grab me!" Harry responded.
Draco pushed Harry, and then Harry pushed Draco, and the Draco tackled Harry, landing them both on the table, and without them noticing…
*Boom*
While wrestling, one of them knocked the table down and the cake came crashing down on the both of them.
They were both covered in cake.
Thank you for reading! :))
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