Chapter Text
“Welcome, Mr Malfoy,” Professor Burbage greeted, “Please, take a seat!”
Harry’s head whipped up from where he had been idly drawing on his hand. Draco Malfoy was standing in the doorway of the Muggle Studies classroom, looking for all the world like he had just swallowed the wrong Bertie Bott’s bean. His white-blond hair shone gold in the light of the strange duck lamp sitting on their professor’s desk.
“Yes,” Harry started with a shit-eating grin, “Welcome, Malfoy.”
Burbage sent him a bright smile, pleased he was being civil with Malfoy for once. Since the beginning of their First Year, Harry and Draco had been at odds with each other, even while Harry dodged attack after attack from followers of the fallen Dark Lord, Voldemort. Six years and a great many trips to Professor Dumbledore’s office later, they were ready to continue as they always had and spend Seventh Year planning prank wars and exchanging petty insults.
But this year, there was one difference. Lucius Malfoy had finally been caught spreading Anti-Muggle propaganda, so part of his sentence was that his Heir was required to join the Muggle Studies NEWT class. Malfoy had been outraged; Harry was overjoyed.
“This is ridiculous,” Malfoy glared at him, pointedly refusing to enter the room, “What an absolute waste of my time.”
Grey eyes looked around, assessing the classroom. Along the walls hung posters of Muggle celebrities and bookshelves containing not just Muggle literature but silly knick-knacks displayed artfully. It was tradition that the graduating class would gift a Muggle item to be displayed for future years to see. Harry admired the newest addition, remembering Burbage's pure joy when she was presented with a toaster covered in bright pink rhinestones.
“Come now, dear, you might find that you learn something,” Professor Burbage’s voice was kind; she was almost as delighted as Harry that Malfoy had been forced to join them.
The boy scoffed before walking into the room; his head held high thanks to his ridiculous posture. Harry often wondered if the backs of the purebloods hurt from the amount of effort they put into maintaining their perfect image.
“Where would you like me to sit?” his plush lips were pressed thin as he wrinkled his nose at the students gaping at him.
“How about next to Mr Potter?”
Harry’s eyes widened for a moment before he protested, “Oh, that’s all right, Professor, I’m sure Malfoy would be much more comfortable sitting-”
“Excellent, thank you for your flexibility,” The blonde woman walked off towards the chalkboard at the front of the class, leaving a groaning Harry and Malfoy behind.
“I’m blaming you for our predicament,” Malfoy was towering over him, his height even more pronounced as Harry craned his neck to look up at him from his seat, “If you hadn’t been such a little shit, I could have partnered with someone else.”
“Who else were you going to partner with, Malfoy?” Harry shoved the quills Malfoy placed half on his table firmly back onto the desk next to him, “Everyone here is either a Muggle-born or Half-blood looking for an easy O; having to work with you would only pull that down.”
“Pull their marks down,” the Slytherin spluttered as he sank into his chair, scooting as far from Harry as the desk allowed, “I am at the top of our whole year!”
“Right after Hermione, you mean,” he smiled innocently at the frowning seventeen-year-old, “And can you really say that you know enough about Muggles to get an O in a NEWT level class on them?”
He hesitated before grumbling under his breath, “Didn’t want to be here anyway,”
Harry snorted and turned his attention back to the front of the classroom, where Burbage had finally finished writing on the chalkboard. He lightly pushed his glasses up his nose and squinted, trying to decipher the horrendous handwriting covering the board.
He was startled out of his seat when a computer and a phone levitated into his field of vision. Around him, the students were gasping in delight and shock; none of them had expected to see any kind of Muggle device until the winter holidays.
“Welcome to our first Muggle Studies class of the year!” Professor Burbage began as she leant back onto her desk, half sitting on the tabletop, “As I’m sure you’ve gathered from the items I’ve passed out, I have some very exciting news to share with you all.”
They leaned forward in anticipation. Harry was beyond curious despite Malfoy’s continued mumbling beside him; he thought he might have heard his name amongst the many complaints.
“The Unspeakables have devised a way to enable the use of Muggle electronics despite the interference of magic, and they have allowed us to test their products.”
There were cheers all around as the students began chatting excitedly. Turning to Malfoy, he could see that despite his sullen countenance, he had quieted and seemed somewhat interested.
“The curriculum has been altered this year and will include the use of the items before you: computers and phones. Your first assessment will be to create a ‘social-media presence’ using at least two different platforms. As you will remember from previous terms, Muggles worldwide engage with social media, so this will be like stepping into their shoes.”
Malfoy scoffed, and the whole class shushed him.
“Now, your computers and phones have internet access as it is necessary for the task. However, I must warn you: the devices and any content you create are to be heavily monitored to ensure you are not endangering the Statute of Secrecy.”
Burbage went on to explain the specifics of the task but slowly trailed off as she realised no one was listening and instead were eagerly exploring the features on their equipment. She only smiled at them and finished her instructions with one final note.
“This task will be undertaken with a partner, so look to your left or right, please,”
Harry stuck his tongue out at Malfoy, who returned the gesture despite his many years of insistence that Harry was the immature one.
“Your desk mate will be who you are assigned to work with.”
Harry’s hand immediately went up, “Professor, please, I might actually die if I have to work with Malfoy,”
“I hate to agree with him, but his sentiment is sound,”
Walking over to their joined desks, Harry could smell the flowery perfume Burbage liked to wear, the scent pleasant despite his annoyance.
“You have survived six years at Hogwarts against all odds, Mr Potter,” she only shook her head at them, “I have full faith that you will persevere through this challenge as well.”
Harry glared at Malfoy as their professor passed out information booklets and went to another desk to answer more questions. His arms were folded as he leaned back in his chair while Malfoy mirrored him.
“I don’t want to work with you,” he spat.
“I bet you don’t even understand the assignment, Ferret,” Harry argued, grabbing the computer from where it was about to fall off their desks.
“Yes, I do! I may not want to be here, but I do have working ears, unlike your eyes,”
“All right,” Harry opened the computer to show him one of the few sites available on the browser, “What’s this then?”
Malfoy stared at the white and red logo, hesitating.
“Fuck you,”
Harry thought fondly of that one time Hermione had punched Malfoy soundly in the face, wishing he could have had a swing. Instead, he shoved the computer in his direction.
“This is YouTube, one of the platforms Burbage was saying we could use.”
Eyeing up the device warily, Malfoy gently grabbed the computer to inspect the screen.
“Never seen a computer before?”
“I have,” the blond countered, “A group of the investors my father works with showed some to him. I simply don’t know how to use it.”
Harry rolled his eyes before grabbing it back off him.
“I refuse to get a bad mark on this, Malfoy,” Harry announced, “I chose this subject to boost my grades.”
To his surprise, Malfoy sighed and carded a pale hand through soft hair that he had only recently stopped gelling back.
“Lucky for you,” he ground out, “I happen to need a passing mark to fulfil my father’s sentence.”
Harry paused, unsure of how to proceed. Their rivalry would, without doubt, endanger their assignment, but how could they move past almost a decade of antagonising each other? He remembered what Dumbledore had told him the last time they ended up in his office.
“How about a truce,” Harry offered after his hesitation had become awkward, “We promise not to intentionally mess up each other’s work, just for this class.”
“A truce,” Malfoy’s voice was flat.
"Have you got a better idea?"
There was another lull in their argument as Harry watched him think. With a sigh, he gritted his teeth and offered his hand out.
“Very well, Potter. I swear not to sabotage our project.”
Harry took his hand and echoed him. Just like that, they had agreed to be civil for the first time since they had set foot into Hogwarts. Somewhere in the castle, Dumbledore smiled without knowing why.
“Are you ready to get started then?”
Malfoy looked green; perhaps he felt as off-kilter as Harry did about their uneasy agreement.
“I don’t suppose it would matter if I said no?”
“Nope.”
Opening their booklet to the page displaying all the different social media platforms they could choose from, Harry pointed out two logos.
“YouTube and Instagram,” he suggested, “YouTube is fun because you can make longer videos that you post every now and again, while Instagram can be used to make short videos and post pictures.”
Slumping forward to rest his head on the desk, Malfoy groaned.
“Potter,” he said pitifully, the sound muffled by the wooden desktop, “I have no idea what anything you just said means. Are you sure you were speaking English?”
“Oh,”
“Oh indeed,” Malfoy looked up to glare at him, “I don’t suppose you keep a book on the subject around? I can’t remember if you ever learnt to read.”
Harry rolled his eyes as he held his hand up, getting the attention of their professor.
“Yes, Mr Potter?” she looked wary, “I hope you aren’t going to ask to switch partners again.”
“Tempting, but I have a feeling that even if I begged, you’d still say no,”
“Correct,” she smiled at him, “Well then, what do you need?”
“Do you perhaps have a book on this ‘social media?” Malfoy cut in, prompting Harry to snort, “I’m afraid the textbook I was assigned to read didn’t cover the topic.”
Burbage suggested a book and scurried off to her desk to retrieve it. Meanwhile, Harry stared at Malfoy like something had possessed him.
“You actually read the textbook?” he was incredulous, “Voluntarily?”
“Of course,” he sniffed, “As I said earlier, I have to receive a passing mark for this class.”
Once Burbage returned to give Malfoy the book, Harry explained how they could use the computer and phone to record and upload videos and photos they took. He put small strips of torn paper in different sections of the book, marking where the information could be found. Malfoy’s grey eyes were wide, like a deer caught in headlights.
“So, because you have no idea about any of this, I’m just going to choose YouTube and Instagram as I know them the best. We can make vlogs!”
“What in Merlin’s name is a vlobs?” Malfoy fidgeted with the sleeve of his robe.
“And you said you had working ears,” Malfoy scoffed as Harry corrected him, “A vlog is a video where people kind of just record themselves talking and doing cool things.”
“And what ‘cool’ things would we be doing?” Malfoy looked vaguely confused, his light eyebrows drawn down, “Anything interesting that I can think of involves magic,”
Harry flipped through their booklet, skimming the pages.
“Well,” he said contemplatively, “Maybe we could explore different places? It says here that we have special permission to visit Muggle-populated areas if we give enough notice for a portkey to be made for us.”
“Visit Muggles!” Malfoy choked out, “Scarhead, you cannot be serious.”
“This is Muggle Studies; did you think you could avoid them?”
“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I hadn’t thought of it.”
Smirking, Harry grabbed his quill and began scrawling notes on the booklet's pages. Reading through some of the suggestions, he thought of an idea that would have Hermione scolding and Ron high-fiving him.
“Professor!” Harry called out, startling Malfoy. He grinned as Burbage sighed and walked over to them.
“Yes, Mr Potter?” she gave him a long-suffering look.
“We’ve chosen YouTube and Instagram,” he continued, “Can we swear in our videos?”
He was met with silence.
“It might make us more personable to the Muggles,” he tried, putting on what he hoped was a convincing smile.
Malfoy seemed to decide that he also wanted this freedom because he chorused, “Please?”
Finally, she closed her eyes and massaged her temples, giving them a reluctant, “If you must.”
~~~
“You cannot seriously expect me to wear that,”
Harry hesitated, looking at the oversized band t-shirt he had been holding up. It was similar to the black one he wore, having changed into jeans and a top to pass as a Muggle.
“What’s wrong with it?”
He quite liked the shirt he was offering.
“What’s wrong with it?” Malfoy drawled, “Never mind that it’s the most hideous shade of red I’ve ever seen; it’s simply ugly.”
“All right,” he threw the shirt onto his bed, “We’re raiding your closet then.”
Malfoy snorted, “Absolutely not,”
“It’s that, or you resign yourself to wearing an ugly shirt ‘cause that’s all I’ve got.”
He was rewarded with an incredulous look.
“Fine,” he groaned, “But if you so much as wrinkle a single robe, I will eviscerate you,”
“Have some faith in me, Malfoy!” Harry exclaimed as they left the Gryffindor dorms, glad the students were still in their classes, “It was only once that I messed up your clothes.”
“Once?” Malfoy gave him a deadpan look, “Try twelve times,”
“Eh, who’s counting,”
“Me! I’ve had to entirely replace my school robes three times and my dress robes twice,”
“Ok,” Harry raised an eyebrow, “But even you have to agree that the dementor incident in Third Year wasn’t my fault; how was I supposed to know that me falling off of my broom would knock you into the mud?”
Harry thanked the portrait guarding the entrance to Gryffindor as they left and followed Malfoy to the dungeons.
Malfoy began giving him death threat after death threat, discouraging him from sharing Slytherin’s password and anything suspicious he might see in their dorms. He nodded dutifully, deciding that telling him he had already seen their common room in Second Year probably wasn’t the best idea.
Holding back a laugh as the blond muttered, “Basilisk”, Harry stepped into the Slytherin common room with a skip. Not much had changed in the years since he had seen it; there was still an obnoxious amount of snake décor.
They entered Malfoy’s dorm room a short walk later, and Harry was dumbfounded.
“How the hell is your room so clean?” he asked suspiciously, “There’s no way that five people live here.”
“Just because your room looks like a hippogriff found its way in there doesn’t mean everyone else’s does,”
“Slander!”
Malfoy smirked at him, and the strangeness of their situation hit Harry. His younger self would be screaming in horror if he found out that one day, he would be standing in a Slytherin dorm, helping his rival.
Walking towards the closet he was directed to, Harry rifled through the many stacks of pants and hanging robes, ignoring the boy's protests beside him.
“Here,” he threw the blond a pair of black slacks and a rich, white button-up shirt with silver embroidery on the hems, “These should do the trick. You can keep your shoes.”
Malfoy eyed the clothes he caught with disdain, “No cloak or vest?”
“Absolutely not,”
There was much groaning and protesting as he was herded into the connected bathroom. Harry cast a locking charm on the door, informing him that he would be freed once he was changed.
“Why are you like this,” came a slightly muffled voice through the door, “Did dear old auntie and uncle damage you too much as a child?
Harry snorted, having heard many variations of that insult in his schooling life. Once Sirius had been proven innocent, thanks to the help of his now-husband, Remus Lupin, Harry had gone to live with them. However, Rita Skeeter had somehow found out about his frankly abusive childhood and written a sordid expose on it; only years of therapy had allowed him to come to terms with what that entailed.
Looking around the room, he saw it had a very similar layout to his dorm. The beds and desks were spread across the room, each covered in a different Slytherin’s belongings. For a moment, Harry was tempted to rifle through some of their things, sure that he could find some good blackmail material. Despite the powerful urge, he pulled his focus towards the window, unwilling to break their truce before they had even truly started.
“Are you decent?” Harry called out after a few minutes, “Care to show the class?”
“Barely,” Malfoy’s voice was biting, “This is an undershirt, Potter; I cannot believe you thought it would look good.”
“Looking good isn’t quite the goal here-“
Malfoy stepped out of the bathroom as Harry unlocked it, “I look poor,”
Harry choked; Malfoy had rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to reveal his forearms and tucked it into the black trousers. He could see pale collarbones through the shirt opening where the top buttons had been left undone.
“You look,” Harry cleared his throat, “Like a wealthy Muggle.”
He shook his head, clearing the unwelcome thought that Malfoy looked unfairly good in such a basic outfit. Dragging his eyes up and down Malfoy's frame, he nodded approvingly.
“I refuse to remove my heirship ring,” Malfoy said, staring him down in warning when Harry saw the ring on his left hand.
“Actually,” Harry shook his head and looked at him contemplatively, “Muggles wear jewellery. Have you got any other pieces?”
Pausing, Malfoy glanced at him and smoothed down the front of his pants,
“I have some more rings,” he said, finally, “And a cuff from my mother.”
“Excellent, wear those,”
Malfoy turned to his closet and selected two more rings before sliding on a silver cuff studded with emeralds. Harry nodded when he turned around to show him, though he had to hold back a laugh as he wondered if everything Malfoy owned was Slytherin-themed.
“All right, now you look sufficiently Muggle; we won’t have to worry about the Unspeakables coming after us,”
He was given an unimpressed look, which he only shrugged at as they left the dorm room.
“You should be glad,” Harry said as they walked past cosy fires and upholstered green couches, “They’re scary. Are you telling me you want to test what it would take for them to deem the Statute in danger?”
Malfoy pushed open the door to the Slytherin common room and exited into the corridor.
“Fine, but I hold that this is the most absurd outfit I’ve worn in my entire life.”
Harry stumbled when he was shoved after bringing up the robes Malfoy had worn to one of Slughorn’s over-the-top parties.
Walking through the castle, they headed towards the Great Lake, deciding to take photos there before recording a video.
“Why bother with photos?” Malfoy was looking at the phone screen as he pointed the camera every which way, “They don’t even move like the videos you told me about.”
“Because Instagram is where you post both photos and short videos,” Harry stuck his foot out, tripping the boy beside him, who glared once he righted himself, “We’ll use it to show some behind-the-scenes and get content out between YouTube videos.”
When they finally arrived at their destination, Harry used a sticking charm to attach their phone between the branches of a tree near the lake’s edge.
“I’m going to have to use the timer setting to get it to take the photos,” Harry frowned as he thought aloud before returning to the lake.
Behind him, Malfoy was fidgeting with his sleeves and pushing soft strands of hair away from his face. For a moment, Harry was struck with the image of a preening peacock, not all that different from the ones he had set loose the one time he attended the Malfoy’s annual Yule ball.
“Ready?”
“I despise that this is a necessity.”
He grinned, “Excellent,”
Harry hit a button on the phone, and it began counting down from thirty. He rushed over to where Malfoy was standing and faced the camera with a wide smile.
“Look happy,” he hissed between his teeth, trying to keep his face still.
The boy flipped the camera off as it flashed.
“Malfoy!”
“Sorry,” he smirked, looking decidedly not apologetic.
They attempted to take more photos, alternating between poses as Harry tried to guide Malfoy through their, for lack of a better word, photoshoot.
~~~
“Hey everyone, it’s-“
“Who are you talking to?”
Harry gestured to the phone he had charmed to follow them as they trudged through the Forbidden Forest.
“The audience,” he raised an eyebrow at him, “Remember how I told you we record the video first, and then we can post it for people to watch?”
“Oh,” Malfoy squinted at the phone from his place beside Harry, “Very well then, you may proceed.”
“Hey everyone,” he began again, “It’s Harry and Malfoy!”
“Correction, it’s Draco and Potter.”
Harry rolled his eyes, “Welcome to our channel! We will be making a bunch of videos for a school project that we have been forced to work on together.”
“Please know that this pains us greatly,” Malfoy began when Harry prompted him with a nudge, “Now, Potter has had the ridiculous idea to explore the forest next to our school that we are expressly forbidden from going near.”
“Hey, you agreed!”
“Someone has to make sure you don’t get yourself killed,”
“Anyway,” Harry cut in, “Let’s head in,”
They started walking into the forest, occasionally looking back to ensure the phone was still following them.
“Now, here we see some lovely trees,” Harry began to imitate David Attenborough, thinking back to his days spent watching nature shows with Remus, “Perhaps we might find some native animals hiding in the leaves!”
“What are you doing with your voice?”
“It’s David-“ Harry paused, “You know what, you won’t know him. I’m copying this cool guy that talks about nature and stuff.”
“Your idiocy astounds me sometimes,” Malfoy told him before addressing the phone, “Do you see what I must suffer through?”
They pointed out some vegetation as they continued through the forest, carefully steering away from anything they deemed too magical. Harry had just begun to explain how he had grown one of the pale blue flowers surrounding a tree trunk in his dorm room when he was startled. Malfoy had put a hand on his arm, which he wrestled away as if he had caught on fire.
“Ferret!”
“Shut up!” Harry paused at the urgency in Malfoy’s voice, “I heard something.”
“What do you mean,” Harry whispered, matching his volume, “What did you hear?”
“It was like, I don’t know, maybe a clicking noise?”
Harry frowned, slowly scanning their surroundings. The morning sun shone softly through the trees, casting the forest floor in gold light. Nothing looked out of place, but if there was one thing Harry had learned over the years, it was that you had to be ready for anything. Squinting, he caught a glimpse of something moving behind a tree, quickly disappearing from sight.
That was when he heard it, just as Malfoy had described: a soft, clicking sound echoing through the trees.
“Potter,” Malfoy was leaning close to him now, almost as if seeking reassurance, “Please tell me you heard it that time.”
“I did,” Harry’s eyes widened fractionally, his pulse quickening, “Maybe we should head back.”
Nodding aggressively, his blond hair sticking to his forehead, Malfoy turned around only to let out a scream.
“POTTER WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!”
Harry spun and came face to face with a giant, hairy creature. He let out a shriek as he realised what he was seeing.
“RUN!”
As one, they sprinted away, crashing through bushes and shrubs. Harry was running faster than he ever had, weaving between trees. Ducking underneath their phone to avoid catching his wand in the frame, he rapidly cast a non-verbal spell at the ginormous spider crawling at an alarming pace towards them. As the bright light hit it, it let out a high-pitched squeak and fell to the ground, its legs up in the air where it lay frozen.
“That won’t hold it for long,” he caught up with Malfoy despite the other having longer legs, his past escapades doing him a service, “We need to get out of here!”
His breath came in short spurts, matching the other boy’s panting, “Why did we think this was a good idea?!”
“There is no 'we' here, Potter!”
They burst out from the forest, covered in leaves and dirt, and crashed onto the open ground, scrambling as far away as possible from the forest’s edge.
“Are we safe now?” Malfoys voice was a pitch too high.
“Yeah,” Harry panted, resting his head back on the soft grass, “It won’t leave the safety of the forest.”
It was a testament to their exhaustion that Malfoy didn’t try to argue with him. After a moment, Harry lifted onto his elbows, still red in the face. He looked around before seeing their phone levitating above them.
“Thanks for watching our video,” Harry said, trying to catch his breath as they lay down, “We hope you enjoyed it!”
“Who would enjoy watching us suffer?” Malfoy groaned from the ground beside him.
“I don’t know,” he shot back, “Maybe petty bitches like you,”
“Potter!” Malfoy shouted as Harry grabbed the phone from the air and ended the recording, “How dare you!”
He stuck his tongue out at him, making a face. When they arrived back at the classroom, Professor Burbage gave them one look before announcing that she wasn’t going to ask.
~~~
“So, what is our channel going to be called?”
They were sitting at their desk amongst the other Seventh Years, crowded around their computer.
Malfoy looked at him strangely, “What do you mean?”
“Well, we have to give it a name. Something recognisable,”
“If we must,” Malfoy hummed, staring at the screen before declaring, “I would like to name it Cygnus. It's a good, strong name; I was going to use it for my next pet.”
Harry blinked at him, trying to figure out how to explain it better. Merlin, sometimes he forgot how clueless purebloods were.
“That’s a lovely name,” he began slowly, “But I was thinking of something more along the lines of what people might address us as. Kind of like a stage name?”
“Ah,”
“Yeah,”
They stared at each other for a moment, and Harry swore he saw in his peripherals one of their classmates, Layla Douglas, start to walk towards them before turning on her heels.
“What about Harry and Malfoy?” he suggested, “That’s how I introduced us at the start of the video.”
“Absolutely not,” Malfoy shook his head, “I introduced us as Draco and Potter, so if anything, we should call it that.”
Harry sighed, “How about Potter and Malfoy, then? We can use both of our last names.”
“Why is your name first?”
“Because I’ll probably be the one doing the most talking? You don’t know a thing about Muggles.”
“Yes, I do,” Malfoy argued, “I demand that we have a competition for it.”
“You know what, fine,”
Harry dug through his pockets and found an old post stamp and a scrap of paper with Hermione’s handwriting covering the tiny space but no coins.
“Have you got a coin on you? We’ll flip for it.”
“Is that even a question?” Malfoy immediately produced a galleon from his bag.
They flipped, Malfoy choosing the dragon side and Harry begrudgingly accepting the other.
“Potter and Malfoy it is!”
Malfoy sniffed at him as he typed their name onto their computer.
“Here,” he handed Malfoy their phone as he began filling out the information needed to create a YouTube account, “Pick a couple of photos for us to post on our Instagram while I set this up.”
They went about their respective tasks in silence, Harry furrowing his brows at the occasional strange question on the form while Malfoy began obsessively flicking between the results of their mini photoshoot, eyeing each one critically.
Harry jumped as their phone was shoved in his face, Malfoy’s rings clinking together, “I have chosen.”
Harry viewed the two photos. The first was a photo of them posing in front of the lake. Malfoy looked depressingly handsome, even as he glared at Harry, who gave the camera an awkward thumbs-up. The second was a photo of them flipping each other off, the sun reflecting brightly on the water next to them.
“Really?”
“I thought they captured our relationship nicely,” Malfoy raised an eyebrow, “Do you disagree?”
“Whatever,” Harry selected the photos in the Instagram app and asked, “We need a caption: a short description or a sentence to accompany the photos.”
“How about, ‘We were forced to do this’?” the blond boy drawled, continuing as Harry snorted, “It ties into how we introduced our YouTube channel.”
“Strangely enough, I actually kind of like that,” Harry began typing, “Let’s do it.”
Adding the finishing touches to the post, he returned the phone to Malfoy.
“Would you like to do the honours?”
Malfoy grabbed the phone from him and hovered a pale hand over it, “What do I press?”
Harry pointed out the button and watched a hesitant finger tap the screen.
“That’s our first post done,” he said with a small smile as he added the post to their Instagram story, “Now we just need to do the video.”
Opening the computer, they had been given; they uploaded the footage from their ill-fated excursion. Harry snickered as he caught sight of a particularly blurry frame of them running.
“This is going to be quite,” Harry searched for the right word, “Organic. I really don’t know how to edit these very well.”
“Then why did you suggest we do this?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, piss off,”
He glared at the computer, dragging a finger across the touchpad. They went through the footage, confirming that, by some miracle, the camera hadn’t caught either the Acromantula chasing them or Harry's spell, even as it shook wildly through their escape.
Half an hour of hesitant clicking and back and forth arguments later, they had their first video ready.
“This has passed the realm of strangeness and landed firmly in ‘stupid’ territory,” Malfoy was eyeing the thumbnail they had chosen with distaste, taking in their slightly blurred, panicked faces.
“Muggles love stupid,” Harry retorted, “Trust me, this will at least get a few likes. Besides, Burbage said to cater to their interests.”
“I’m blaming you when we get a Troll for this assignment, Scarhead,”
Harry kicked him under the table, eliciting a squeak and a scowl.
“All right, my dear class,” Professor Burbage gestured for them to quiet down, “I’m very glad to see that so many of you had productive mornings! It is now time for lunch, so you are free to leave. If you want to stay for a few more minutes to finish what you are working on, I will be here for a little longer.”
The students rose from their seats, grabbing bags and storing their computers and phones in the special trunk provided by the Unspeakables, which only Burbage had the key to.
“Fuck you, Potter,” Malfoy called out as he practically ran out of the classroom, “See you on Wednesday if I haven't died from the embarrassment of having to work with you!”
Harry flipped him off, not even raising his head from their computer, “Fuck you too, Ferret,”
As the rest of their class slowly filtered out the door, he smiled as he entered the caption they had taken far too long to agree on.
Hello there, we are Potter and Malfoy. This channel, as well as our Instagram, @potterandmalfoy, is part of a school project we have just started. Please enjoy watching us attempt to navigate the internet!
“And now,” Harry pressed the button with a flourish, “We post!”
~~~
User23827837 commented: I love this!
redroseblueviolet commented: obsessed with these random british guys doing a school project
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unicornzrcool commented: The love/hate relationship is killing me lol
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Mopheads commented: Why is Malfoy wearing dressy clothes while Potter is in a band t-shirt?
TYRANNOSAURUS_REX_2 commented: What were they running from!??!?!??!