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“I swear, it’s all Hermione’s fault.” Harry insisted instantly when Ron tossed a confused glance in his direction. They had been walking out of their Defence Against the Dark Arts class when Harry’s hand had jerked outward. Once again he had dropped three of his quills directly in front of him when Malfoy had walked by, bustling in a swirl of robes as he headed to his next class, chatting animatedly with another of his Slytherin mates. Ron was extremely confused, if not worried because this was maybe the third time that day Harry had dropped something randomly as they were walking in the corridors.
“Right. What did she do then? Hex you?” Ron sniggered, obviously not believing a word that Harry said if the twitching of the corners of his mouth was anything to go by. “Because unless she’s got some sort of bloody butter-finger charm on you, I don’t see how this could be caused by Hermione.”
Harry clenched his jaw so as not to snap at Ron’s teasing tone. How exactly was he meant to explain himself? He couldn’t very well just blurt out that the reason he was dropping his items around the floors of the castle was that he was hoping a certain blonde would bend over and pick them up for him. Ron would probably sputter in that way he did when something offended him and march Harry straight down to Madam Pomfrey if he were to even try. It wasn’t that he was against Harry checking out other blokes, per se, it was more the fact that Harry was checking out this specific man. A man who had not only been on the other side of the war but his long-time rival as well. Ron would definitely come to the conclusion that he had gone mad if he realised that Harry found himself going to great lengths in order to make it easier for himself to get a proper look at all the particular man had to offer.
“It’s Hermione’s fault.” He said again, throwing his quills back in his bag angrily and continuing on their walk to the castle grounds. Ron followed after him, with his eyebrows raised and his mouth in a straight line, but he seemed like he was willing to drop the subject. It took a few minutes, but by the time they had stopped by the Herbology greenhouses to meet up with Hermione, Ron had seemingly completely forgotten about it, much to Harry’s relief, and instead was engrossed in a long, confusing conversation with Neville and Luna about some sort of plant the two were studying. Hermione stood off to the side, nodding along to whatever the two were going on about with rapt interest. Harry, though he tried to listen in on the conversation, found that he didn’t understand much of what was being said and decided that it would be better for his confused brain if he just let the group be.
After the war, Harry had decided that going back to Hogwarts to finish his NEWTs was the best course of action. After all, he wanted to become an Auror, and that meant he needed to pass the tests with fairly good marks. Sure, the Auror’s had offered Harry a spot not weeks after he defeated Voldemort, but Harry had found himself missing the grounds of Hogwarts and instead decided to do things the right way, as opposed to using his name to get what he wanted.
If he had known that returning to Hogwarts for the eighth year would be so conflicting, he might have taken up the Head Auror on his offer. The day he had walked back into the one and only place he ever truly felt was his home, he had a near breakdown. His mind had flooded with memories of the Battle of Hogwarts, as the Prophet was calling it, and he had found himself unable to walk into the Great Hall without seeing the many white faces staring blankly up at the ceiling with dead eyes. If it hadn’t been for Ron and Hermione, Harry might’ve skipped out on Hogwarts altogether, but since the trio was allowed to share a dorm in the new eighth year common room, Harry spent most of his time in their company, allowing their newfound relationship to fill the emptiness in his heart where so many others used to live.
It had been a warm day in October when everything changed for him. After the war had ended, Ginny and he realised that while they fit well together when it came to being fierce and strong, they were unable to be intimate and calm with each other, and this caused Harry to fall into a despair that left him feeling empty, like he had turned into a hollow version of his former self. He often spent his days walking the grounds with Ron and Hermione, enjoying the warmth of the autumn air while it lasted. And it was on one of these such walks that the little fire in the pit of his stomach sparked once again for the first time since he came back to life. He had been daydreaming about something or other, vaguely listening to Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville go on about a recent spell that could transfigure certain vegetables into sweets when he saw out of the corner of his eye something that set a heat coiling in his stomach.
Draco Malfoy, laughing easily with a spark in his eyes at a younger Gryffindor boy who seemed to have thrown a jinx at him. At first, Harry had thought the feeling in the pit of his stomach was anger. After all, Malfoy having the nerve to laugh at a Gryffindor even now after the houses were all trying to show some more unity irked Harry in a way that didn’t make sense. But after a moment of staring, Harry realised that the feeling in his stomach wasn’t one of anger, but instead of something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
That was when his group of friends started to walk back to the gates of the castle, where Malfoy and his cronies often congregated in between their games of Exploding Snap that they played frequently on the grounds. Having no logical reason not to, Harry had followed after them, trying to keep his eyes off of Malfoy and trained on Ginny who was trying to rope Harry in on their conversation by teasing him lightly and mentioning that he wasn’t taking NEWT level Transfiguration that year in a disapproving tone that was very similar to the tone Hermione often used when they talked about it. They were only a few feet away when Harry heard Malfoy say, “I’ll go grab some. Be right back.”
That was when a chain of events occurred that would shake Harry’s resolve to remain indifferent towards Malfoy. First, Malfoy had spun on his heel and run smack dab right into Hermione, who was walking in front of him. Then, Hermione had dropped a book she was holding, flinging it a few steps in front of herself in shock. That was when Malfoy had taken a step forward and bent over to pick up Hermione’s book.
And that was when the wind was knocked right out of Harry’s lungs. How had he not noticed Malfoy’s legs and perfect arse before? He had kicked those legs enough times to know that they were muscular, but looking at them now they didn’t only look toned. No, they looked ravishing.
While Harry froze in shock at his most recent discovery, Malfoy spun back around and handed the book back to Hermione, who was seemingly shocked but appreciative. Malfoy had murmured a soft apology and glanced up at Harry with a soft smile before turning around elegantly and strutting his way through the gates, his hips swaying all the while in a way that made Harry’s mouth go dry.
Even thinking about it now on their walk to Care of Magical Creatures caused Harry’s skin to become itchy and hot in a way that made him feel flustered. Of course, Luna noticed this and pointed it out in the oblivious tone she always seemed to use, saying, “Harry, are you alright? You seem to be coming down with some sort of fever. You’re blushing pretty heavily right now.”
And just like that, all eyes were trained on him. He groaned inwardly at Luna and tried to avoid Ron’s inquiring gaze.
“He’s been like that for the past few days. I was thinking about dragging the sorry bloke off to the Infirmary before Potions later.” Ron said, causing a small laugh to burst from Neville who responded in a jovial tone.
“As if Harry would miss Potions. Haven’t you noticed how he practically runs to the dungeons after Care of Magical Creatures?”
“Well of course he does, he’s gotta get there before the Slytherin’s do so he can get a decent seat, isn’t that right, Harry?”
Harry looked over at Ron sheepishly and gladly took the excuse presented to him. “Right. Gotta beat the Slytherins.”
Hermione raised a brow at him, reminding him of Ginny when he tried to lie to her. “Are you feeling alright, Harry?” She asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
Harry both wanted to hug her and run away from her at once. Ever since his near break down at the entrance of Hogwarts, she seemed to be coddling him more than he would have thought possible. If he said he wasn’t feeling well, she’d probably drop all of her items right here in the middle of the grounds and haul him right up to Madam Pomfrey saying, “You already died for the Wizarding World once, you don’t need to do it again.” She was very adamant in making sure Harry’s mental state was stable since the war had ended.
“I’m fine Hermione. Just a bit hot right now.” And bothered , his mind helpfully supplied, causing him to flush an even deeper shade of red.
“Not to mention jumpy. Did I tell you that he threw more stuff today?” Ron added, fixing that concerned gaze on Harry once again.
Hermione shook her head. “Maybe we really should take you to the Infirmary, Harry. Muscle spasms can be a sign of many illnesses-”
“Hermione, I said I’m fine. Let’s just go to Care of Magical Creatures, alright? We’re going to be late.”
The brunette sighed but nodded and continued on walking, but she seemed unwilling to drop the subject. “What do you think is causing it, Harry?” She asked, and before Harry could respond with his regular I haven’t the faintest , Ron piped up.
“Says its all your fault.”
The silence that followed was deafening. “My fault?” Hermione asked, looking mildly offended. “What did I do?”
“That’s what I asked. He didn’t tell me.”
“Why, that’s ridiculous. Harry, you know I would never purposefully harm you.”
“Hermione,” Harry sighed, suddenly resigned, “I don’t mean it like that. I just mean that...well you brought something to my attention a few weeks back and it’s been kind of distracting me as of late.”
“What do you mean?”Hermione demanded.
“Why, I believe Harry is having what Muggles refer to as a gay panic .” Luna suddenly said, causing Harry’s mouth to open slightly in surprise.
“Luna, how did you know that?”Harry hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer to him so she would hopefully drop her voice a few notches.
“Well, I noticed the way you stare at Mr. Malfoy whenever he walks by, and ever since you ogled his bum that first time you’ve been trying to get him to bend over for you once again.” She supplied simply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
As predicted, Ron sputtered indignantly. “Wha-Malfoy? Harry? Ogling Malfoy? Have you gone mad? Harry couldn’t-”
“Actually Ron, now that she’s mentioned it, I believe she’s onto something,”Neville spoke up, looking at Harry with his head cocked to one side. “Ever since that day he picked up Hermione’s book, Harry blushes when he’s around. I always just assumed he was getting angry by the lack of fights happening between them, but this does make a tad bit more sense, no?”
“No!” Ron cried. “It doesn’t make any sense! Tell him, Harry.”
Rons cries were attracting the attention of the class gathered in front of Hagrid’s cabin, which was getting closer and closer as they hiked down the trail. “Er-” Harry hesitated, not really wanting to lie to Ron, but also not willing to tell him the truth.
“Oh, Merlin,” Ron muttered, his face paling. “You are ogling Malfoy. What the bloody hell-”
“What are you saying about Draco, Weasel?” A voice suddenly said, causing the whole group of muttering friends to snap their heads in the direction it came from.
Pansy Parkinson. Of course. How hadn’t Harry recognised her voice? After all, she was the one who roomed with Cho Chang and Lavender Brown in their dormitories and was known for screaming insults at them and gushing over her Slytherin Prince at ungodly hours in the morning.
“Never you mind.” Ron snapped back, red colouring the tips of his ears as his anger rose.
“Actually, I believe I have a right to know what is being said about me, Weasley.” And that was when Harry realised Draco was standing right next to Pansy, a smirk dancing on those annoying soft lips of his.
“You have no rights as far as I’m concerned, Mal-” Ron began, but Luna talked over him.
“We were just discussing how Harry likes to ogle you. I think he fancies you a bit, and Ron thinks he doesn’t.” She paused when she turned and saw Harry staring at her with his eyes wide and his face pale.
“Luna!”Harry cried, embarrassed. “I can’t believe you right-you aren’t even in this class! Go away!”
“Oh no, this is too rich.” Pansy chortled, her hair falling out of her bun and into her face.
“What is?” Luna asked innocently. Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye that Malfoy was blushing heavily, his pale skin and long neck covered in red.
“You have no idea how often this one ogles Harry. Merlin, if I had a sickle for every time Draco came storming into the room going all Potter this and Potter that I could single-handedly regain my family’s fortune.” Pansy replied, nudging Malfoy-no Draco-in the side.
Hermione seemed to catch on to what Pansy was saying before anyone else did. “Oh, really?” She asked cheekily, in that way that made Harry very nervous for what she was about to say. “In that case, I think we ought to do something about that. What do you say?”
“Honestly, Granger, I don’t like you one bit, but if it’ll shut this one up, I’ll do whatever you say,” Pansy replied, brushing off the miffed look Hermione sent her way for a split second before nodding in agreement.
“Harry, why don’t you and Mal-Draco go and have a bit of a chat.” Ron choked at Hermione's words. “You know just as well as I do that Hagrid probably isn’t going to show up for class for at least another few minutes, so it shouldn’t hurt anything.” Hermione encouraged, adding on, “Go on, then.” When Harry made no move to walk away with Draco.
“Is it true, then?” He suddenly said, causing Harry to flinch. “You ogle me?”
Harry blushed. “Is it true that you don’t shut up about me?” He retaliated, and those shocking grey eyes flooded with anger and embarrassment.
“So what if I don't, Potter?” He shot back, eyes narrowing. “Scared of what I’m saying?”
“I believe I have a right to know what’s being said about me,” Harry said, raising his chin so as to challenge the other boy to continue arguing.
“Using my own words against me. How very Slytherin of you.” Draco murmured, and if Harry wasn’t mistaken there was a bit of fondness in his tone.
“Yeah, well,” Harry muttered, “You bring out the Slytherin in me, Draco.”
“I’m flattered, Harry. Really.” And if Harry said his stomach didn’t flutter when his name fell from Draco’s lips, he’d be lying. In fact, his mind had gone immediately to what that would sound like if it were more breathy and light and a bit of heat stretched throughout his body.
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Harry said, some of his courage coming back to him.
“You could say that,” Draco responded with, and Harry realised that they weren’t actually fighting like he thought they were. No, this was flirting. And that rage in Draco’s eyes? Harry was starting to think that it might not be rage after all.
“I believe I just did.” Harry quipped, causing Draco to roll his eyes. “Now that I’ve charmed you, what happens next?”
Draco looked him up and down with a heated gaze and Harry couldn’t help but squirm in anticipation. “I could think of a few things.” He said lowly, taking a step forward. Harry took a step forward as well until they were close enough to touch.
“Like what?” Harry whispered, daring Draco to tell him what he wanted by staring directly into his eyes.
“Well, I did always mean to thank you for saving my life. And for speaking on my behalf at the trial.” He said, his voice becoming softer and his face becoming vulnerable. Harry reached out a hand and rest it on the blonde’s pale skin.
“You don’t need to thank me.” Harry insisted. “But I can think of something you could do right now that would make me walk through hell to get you to do again.”
“Hm?” Draco inquired, his hands coming up and hesitantly resting on Harry's shoulders.
“Kiss me?” He asked, both hands reaching up to cup the taller man’s face.
Draco smiled and nodded once, pulling Harry even closer so their bodies were flush together and then leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss so passionate Harry was dizzy with it.
This time when Harry dropped the bag on his shoulder, it wasn’t because he wanted to see Malfoy bend over for him. No, it was because now instead of getting to look at that perfect arse, he was allowed to grasp at it. And if the things Draco’s little hitch of breath did to Harry were anything to go by, Harry was certain that he would only ever need to drop on his knees for the boy he had dropped his bag for from that moment on.
-The End-